‘I will take good care you don’t,’ cried Nell in her turn. ‘I have more powerful friends than you think of--friends who will not see me insulted by a common farmer’s son. I know I promised conditionally to be your wife, but I did it for your sake, not my own. I should have hated the life--the very thought is distasteful to me. So never think of me in that light or any light again. I break off with you from this moment. The man I met last night is worth ten thousand of you. I value his little finger more than your whole body. I would rather beg my bread with a gentleman than sit on a throne with a clod like you. Now you have the whole truth. Make what you like of it.’ ‘Oh, stop, stop. In mercy to yourself, stop,’ cried the young man, as with both hands clapped to his ears he ran out of the house. Nell felt rather subdued when left to herself. She was not quite sure how far she had betrayed her secret, or if she had said anything in her wrath to lead to Lord Ilfracombe’s identity. But on revision she thought not. Hugh did not know the name of her former lover--he had not heard those of the guests at the Hall. There was no chance of his gaining a knowledge of the truth. And, as for the rest, it was just as well he had seen for himself that they could never be more to each other than they were at present. And then she resolved into another of the pleasing day-dreams from which his entrance had disturbed her. Her father and mother came bustling in after a little while full of complaints and anxiety. One of their best cows had shown symptoms of dangerous illness, and every remedy that the farm could boast of was set in motion at once. ‘Come, my lass,’ cried Mrs Llewellyn, as she entered the parlour, ‘you must bestir yourself and help me. Father and I are in sad trouble. Bonnie is as bad as she can be, and if we can’t stop the symptoms she’ll be dead before the morning. Ay, but misfortunes never seem to come single, what with the raising of the rent and other troubles. I’ve set Betty to put on all the hot water she can, and we must choose the oldest blankets we have for fomentations. Bring the lamp with you, Nell, I want to find the proper medicines in father’s chest.’ The girl snatched up the light, and followed her mother to where Mr Llewellyn kept a chest full of veterinary drugs. ‘That ain’t it, and that ain’t it,’ the old woman kept on saying as she pulled bottle after bottle to the light. ‘Ah, I think this is the stuff that cured Daisy last year. She pulled out the cork with her teeth, and tasted a little of the brown, nauseous-looking mixture, but spat it out immediately on the floor. ‘God save us, that’s the lotion for the sheep’s backs, deadly poison. Don’t you ever touch that, my girl. It’ll take the skin off your tongue in no time.’ ‘Am I likely?’ remonstrated Nell seriously; ‘but suppose you had given it to the poor cow by mistake? Why don’t you label it plainly “Poison,” mother, and then there would be no fear of an accident?’