She soon revived, and recovering a little of her old colour again, put her arms round Howel, and thanked him for being so kind. Howel was aware, for the first time for many years, that conscience is not a myth; his smote him. 'Will you stay at home to-day, Howel?' asked Netta. 'I will write myself to your mother, if you will.' 'Yes, Netta, dear, I will. Now, shall we carry the picture-book to Minette?' 'No; you must have your breakfast now, and I will make it. Oh! I am so happy.' 'And you do not care for Dancy, Netta?' 'No; I hate him.' Howel kept his word, and stayed at home that one day with Netta and her child, and she wrote that day down on the tablets of her memory as the brightest spot in six years of trouble and distrust. CHAPTER XXXVIII. THE FORGER. In a few days Mrs Griffith Jenkins arrived in London, equally surprised and delighted by the invitation she had received from her son and daughter-in-law. Netta kept her word, and behaved to her with all the kindness and consideration she could assume. She took her to various places of amusement, and tried to find pleasure herself in scenes that a few years before would have given her great delight; but the forebodings of coming evil hung heavily over her, and she could not rouse herself into her old spirits. Howel was very kind to her when with her; but after that one white day he was not much at home. He went out once or twice with her and his mother in the evening, and was so very attentive to the latter that she began to think herself a person of consideration once more. 'There's kind Howels is, Netta, fach!' she would say. 'There's proud you ought to be to be having such a kind husband. But he don't be looking well, nor you neither. You was looking as pale as those wox figures at Mrs Tuss's; and seure won was as like you as could be. Ach a fi! I 'ouldn't like to be going again into that little room with all the murderers. And Howel was looking quite pale. But such beauty music, and dresses, and all like life. I thought I should a-screeked out when that man turned and looked at me, and wogged his head, and was nodding, is seure as if he was alive, and he only wox!' Mrs Jenkins had been in London about a week, when Howel began carelessly the subject nearest his heart. 'I say, mother, fach, how does your money hold out? I daresay you are rich as a Jew by this time.' 'Pretty well, Howel. I hope you do be well off now, and don't be living so gay as you wos.' 'Well, mother, if I could just get a few thousands for a couple of weeks I should be as rich as Croesus, and out of all those difficulties I told you of in another month. Do you know of any one likely to have such a sum to lend?' 'Thousands, Howel! why hundreds wasn't plenty with us, let alone thousands. You do know that there don't be any wan so rich as you in our parts.'