‘Please don’t say anything more about it,’ replied Nell; ‘at the worst it will only be a bruise; you need not be afraid now, madam. This man is rough, but he understands horses, and is very steady.’ And so saying Nell slipped through a break in the hedge and was gone. Lady Ilfracombe arrived safely at the Hall, and a groom was at once despatched to pick up Lady Bowmant, whom he met half-way between old Farley’s cottage and the house, laughing heartily to herself over the disappearance of her friend and her carriage, having made a shrewd guess that Beau and Belle had taken her home, whether she would or not. The occurrence formed the chief topic of conversation at the luncheon-table, and Nora was full of the beautiful country girl she had met and who had shown so much courage in stopping the runaway cobs. ‘I must make her some little acknowledgment of the service she rendered me, mustn’t I, Ilfracombe?’ she asked her husband. ‘I might have been killed, if it hadn’t been for her, and, or still worse, smashed Lady Bowmant’s pretty trap.’ ‘Of course you must, darling,’ replied the earl. ‘We can never repay her for what she did for us.’ ‘But I don’t know her name!’ exclaimed Nora, ‘though I suppose she lives somewhere over the way, because she ordered the old hedger to lead the cobs home, as if he were her servant. Oh, she is such a pretty young woman. Her face is perfectly lovely. I think it was because I was so occupied gazing at her, that I forgot to ask her name.’ ‘A very pretty girl,’ repeated Sir Archibald. ‘I think that must be one of the Llewellyns. They’re the prettiest girls for a good many miles round Usk. Isn’t that the case, Dolly?’ he said, addressing his wife. ‘Well, I’ve only seen the married one,’ she replied, but I know they bear that reputation. The father is a very handsome old man.’ At the name of Llewellyn, Lady Ilfracombe looked up quickly, and the earl and Jack Portland exchanged glances with each other. ‘What is there in that to surprise you?’ demanded their host, mistaking the meaning of their looks. ‘Wales is rather celebrated for beauty, you know; at least we won’t allow that England, Ireland or Scotland can hold a candle to us in that respect.’ Ilfracombe did not seem disposed to answer, so Jack Portland took upon himself to be spokesman. ‘I have not the slightest doubt of your superiority, Sir Archibald,’ he said, ‘and was not the least surprised to hear you say so. I only thought I had heard the name before.’ ‘What! of Llewellyn? _I_ should be surprised if you had not. We are all Llewellyns, or Owens, or Lewises, or Thomases in Wales. It’s one of the commonest names here. I’ve about half a dozen Llewellyns amongst my tenants. But this man’s daughters are really uncommonly handsome. Fine tall girls, with splendidly cut features. By Jove! it’s a pleasure to go to the farm only to catch a glimpse of one of them.’