‘Shut up! shut up! Yes! Do anything you like. I don’t care so long as you leave me alone,’ was the reply. ‘Yes, sir; certainly, and what time would you like to be called in the morning, sir?’ ‘Oh! go to the devil!’ cried Portland furiously, as the man disappeared, repeating his usual formula of ‘Yes, sir;’ ‘thank you, sir,’ and left him to his disappointment and conjectures. What _could_ be the matter? Where was Nell? What was she doing? What did she mean? These were the questions that repeated themselves over and over in his brain, and which received no answer till the following morning. He would have his answer then, he thought. He would go up to Panty-cuckoo Farm the very first thing and tell the Llewellyns of his marriage to their daughter, and, if need be, take his wife back with him by force. No power on earth could prevent that. But it was not the sort of honeymoon he had promised himself. Meanwhile Lord and Lady Ilfracombe were saying to each other, as we have seen before, ‘We will go over to the farm to-morrow morning and say good-bye to Nell, and tell her of all the good things we mean to do for her when she is married,’ and so at last they all slept, the husband and wife locked in each other’s arms--Jack Portland, restlessly, and starting up now and then to remember his disappointment with an oath, and Nell Llewellyn slept also, the sweetest and most peaceful sleep of them all. She had gone straight home to her parents when she parted with Nora, and had passed a very pleasant evening with them. The old people had been particularly cheerful. Bonnie, the cow, had quite recovered, and was giving her milk as well as ever; and Sir Archibald Bowmant had met the farmer on his way home and intimated to him that he was likely to have a change of landlords. ‘I do think,’ said Mr Llewellyn, ‘as his lordship buying the old farm is the grandest thing I’ve ever heard on, and, if it come to pass (and Sir Archibald spoke of it as a settled thing), mother and me shall feel as we owe it all to you, my lass. Sha’n’t us, mother?’ ‘Yes, indeed,’ acquiesced the old woman, ‘it’s all due to Nell, there’s no question of that. It was a fortunate day for us when you took service with the earl, Nell, though we were both set agen you going to London at the time; but there, one never knows how things will turn out.’ Nell looked gratified by her parents’ approval. She had been more serious and silent than usual that evening, but now she seemed to brighten up, and talked with them of all they should do and say when Lord Ilfracombe came to tell them of his kindness in person. ‘Ay! but that will be a grand occasion,’ quoth her mother; ‘and you must do credit to it, my lass. I daresay the earl will bring his lady with him, and we must all put on our Sunday best to do them honour.’