‘I understand,’ she replied, and then left the room. There was a slight summer shower that afternoon, and the rest of the Hall party had already settled themselves to spend it indoors. A noisy set were occupied in the billiard-room, chatting and laughing over their game, and the more respectable scandalmongers were working, reading, and taking away their neighbours’ characters in the seclusion of the drawing-room. Lady Ilfracombe donned a large straw hat, and, taking an umbrella in her hand, set forth for Panty-cuckoo Farm without observation. She soon found her way through the white gate, and down the hilly slope, and found the latched wicket that guarded the bricked pathway up to the house. As soon as she placed her hand upon the latch, Mrs Llewellyn, as was her custom at the approach of any visitors, came quickly forward to save her the trouble of opening it, and give her a welcome to Panty-cuckoo Farm. ‘Walk in, my lady,’ she exclaimed cordially. ‘This way, if you please,’ and ushering Nora into the parlour she dusted a chair with her apron, and set it before her. ‘Oh, what a lovely room,’ cried Nora enthusiastically, as she gazed around her. ‘What dear old carved oak. Why, it must be centuries old; and what beautiful china. Don’t leave me here alone, pray, or I shall steal half your things. I suppose you are Mrs Llewellyn. Well, you have the very jolliest room I ever saw in my life.’ Mrs Llewellyn was completely won over by this praise. She was very proud, as has been said before, of her room and oak and china, and nothing pleased her better than to see them appreciated. ‘Many have told me so before, ma’am; but I am glad you like them. My husband and I have been offered pounds and pounds sometimes for these very things by the ladies and gentlemen who have visited Usk; but we could never make up our minds to sell them. They belonged to our great-great-grandparents, and there they will be till our time comes to leave them behind us for the benefit of our daughters.’ ‘Your daughters, Mrs Llewellyn. That reminds me of the purpose of my visit to you. A young woman, whom I believe to be one of your daughters, did me a very great service this morning. She stopped a pair of runaway horses for me, and saved, perhaps, my life.’ ‘Ay, that was my eldest girl. She told us of it; but it is nothing to make a fuss about, ma’am. Country girls are more used to do such things than town ladies. There’s not a girl in Usk but what would do her best to stop a horse. I hope you weren’t hurt at all yourself, ma’am?’ ‘Not a bit; but your daughter was. I saw the blood-stain on the sleeve of her dress. I am afraid the horse touched her arm with his hoof when he threw her down.’