‘No, I didn’t. I thought, perhaps, you considered me altogether too bad to associate with--that I should contaminate you and make you unfit for the ministry, and so it was your duty not to come near me any more. That is what I thought.’ ‘How very little you know me,’ said the young man with a sigh. ‘But mother and father are always asking after you,’ continued Nell, hurriedly, ‘and wondering why you never come near us; and it makes it rather awkward for me, you know, Hugh. I have told them all kinds of stories to excuse your absence; but it would be much better if you could come and see the old people now and then. I would keep out of the way, if you prefer it, whilst you are there.’ He did not contradict her, only saying,-- ‘I should be sorry to vex Mr and Mrs Llewellyn, who have always been very good to me. I hope they thought it was my duties that kept me away. I should not like them to know that you and I have quarrelled.’ ‘But _have_ we quarrelled?’ said Nell, wistfully. ‘Cannot we be friends still, Hugh, as we were before--before your last visit, you know? We are rather sad up at Panty-cuckoo just now. Father seems quite down-hearted about his farm. Sir Archibald has decided to raise the rent again, and father says he won’t be able to make the place pay if he does. Sometimes he talks of emigrating. Fancy his doing that at his age! and, oftener, the poor old man says he has lived too long, and it will be a good day when he is carried to Usk churchyard. And, what with that, and--and--other things, I think sometimes, Hugh, that life is altogether too hard to bear; and it is a pity mine wasn’t ended when I tried to end it!’ ‘Poor Nell,’ said Hugh. ‘No, don’t say that. If your life had not held better things in store for you, surely the Lord would not have given it back to you twice running. But I must come over and talk to your father, and see if I cannot cheer him up. If the worst comes to the worst, Nell, I don’t see why he should not try his fortune in another country. He is not so very old--sixty or thereabouts, I think--and he will take his experience with him, and sell it, maybe, to other men. There are countries, as I daresay you have heard--like Canada, for instance--where Government gives the land away to men who can cultivate it; and your father must have a good sum of money sunk in his stock and implements. With a little money in hand, a man with knowledge may do wonders in Canada or New Zealand, and live out there as long again as he would have done in England.’ ‘Oh, Hugh, you are talking nonsense. How would father and mother feel, uprooted from the old place where they have spent almost all their lives, and set down in a strange country, without a friend or acquaintance near them? They would die. They couldn’t stand it. It would be too great a wrench.’ ‘Would not _you_ go with them?’ asked Hugh dubiously.