And she left the farmer and his wife to congratulate each other on the possession of so handsome a daughter, that no one could find it in their hearts to refuse her anything. And Nell sat in her own room, thinking--thinking. It was nearing the hour when she had promised to give Mr Portland her answer. He had agreed to come to that place for it, and stand under her window till she appeared to give it him. He was more eager for it than one would have given him credit for. He had lain awake the night before, wondering if Nell had really meant what she said, and what his life would feel like when she brought her gracious presence into it. He could jest and be sarcastic with her when he saw no likelihood of her consenting to marry him, but now that she had half consented, his feelings seemed already to have become somewhat purified by the very possibility of such a thing. Perhaps those few hours of anticipation formed the best part of Jack Portland’s existence--the least like the years that had gone before it. He felt humbled as he looked back upon the past--fearful as he contemplated the future. For the first time, he knew himself to be utterly unworthy of the regard or the possession of a good woman. And as he stood beneath Nell Llewellyn’s window, he felt certain that she would tell him she could not consent to such a step. Fancy, his relief and pleasure when she looked for a moment from the casement and said: ‘Mr Portland, I have made up my mind, and _it is to be_.’ CHAPTER VIII. The licence having been procured, the marriage ceremony before the registrar of Usk was accomplished in a very few minutes. Jack Portland had only to meet Nell at the office the following morning, and in half-an-hour they walked out again man and wife. The girl was very calm and collected over the whole affair--so calm indeed, that her new-made husband looked at her with surprise. They walked back to their respective destinations by a by-path, so that they might converse unseen, though nobody in Usk would have been very much astonished if they had encountered one of the gentlemen from the Hall taking a stroll with such a notorious beauty as Farmer Llewellyn’s daughter. ‘Well, Nell,’ commenced Jack Portland, ‘so it really is _un fait accompli_, and you are Mrs Portland. Have you told the old people yet?’ ‘No! I waited until, as you say, it should be an accomplished thing.’ ‘When shall you break the news to them? Won’t they be very much surprised? How will they take it, do you think?’ ‘Oh! they will only feel too honoured at my having made such a good match--at my having married a “real gentleman,”’ replied Nell, with quiet sarcasm. ‘What else should farmers feel?’ ‘You’ll have to tell them before you join me at “The Three Pilchards” this evening.’ ‘Perhaps! It depends on what humour they may be in. At all events, you can announce the fact to them to-morrow morning.’