It was shortly after the arrival at Plas Abertewey that Owen and Gladys simultaneously left the farm, and we find the former on that same morning, standing at a little distance from this residence of his sister and Howel, surveying it, and ruminating on the family fortunes. 'Well done, Howel,' he said to himself; 'if money hasn't done something for you, I don't know for whom it has done anything. I declare I will try and make some myself, and come back and marry Gladys in spite of the world.' Then he began to ask himself, whether it was kind and brotherly to pass by his only sister's door without saying good-bye to her, and whether his father had any right to expect all her relations to give her up, because he chose to do so? His reflections were suddenly cut short by the appearance of Howel and another gentleman, bound, apparently, on a fishing expedition. 'Owen, come at last!' cried Howel, hastening up to him with great good will. 'Better late than never. I am very glad to see you, so will be Netta. Travelled early to hide your carpet bag, or whatever it is?' 'Knapsack,' said Owen, shaking his cousin's offered hand; 'I'm off to sea again.' 'A queer road to take; but you come to see us on your way, of course. Let me introduce you to Mr Simpson, Sir John Simpson's son. My cousin, Mr Simpson, my wife's brother. Owen nodded, and Mr Simpson bowed. 'We're going out fishing, but you'll find Netta--in bed, I'm afraid, but she'll be glad to see you anywhere. Go up the avenue, and let Netta know you've come. We shall be home to dinner at seven. Good-bye for the present.' Owen did not stay to consider, but walked past the handsome lodge, and up the drive, according to Howel's direction. 'Mighty condescending and very patronising, cousin Howel!' he soliloquised; 'but I will go and see how Netta gets on, and how your highness treats her.' He reached the house, and rang stoutly at the bell. A servant answered it, who was adjusting his coat just put on, he not having expected such early visitors. 'The back entrance is round the corner there, young man,' were his words on perceiving Owen, whose pride was greatly roused thereby. 'Tell Mrs Howel Jenkins that her brother, Mr Owen Prothero, is here,' said Owen, intending to electrify the man. But he did not succeed. The servants knew very well that their mistress's family was not of 'county rank,' and that its members were not upon terms with the Aberteweys, therefore had no very high opinion of them. He turned on his heel, and told a female servant to tell Lucette, the French maid, to tell her mistress that Mr Owen Prothero was at the door.