'If he didn't be marrying beneath him, he 'ould be holding up his head, and looking for a lady, who do be keeping him in his place. And Netta Prothero so 'stravagant! ach a fi! and Prothero, Glanyfavon, who was turning against him, and kicking me out of his house. Shame for you all, Rowland Prothero! your own cousin and brother-in-law! and no one to be saying a word to help him. Oh, anwyl! my boy! my Howels! What 'ould his poor father be saying if he was knowing all! and how his money was going and all mine too! I shall be going to the Eunion, and then you'll be feeling satisfied, Rowland Prothero! and your mother, and that Gladys, and all so grand! 'll be looking down upon me. And my Howels over the sea! 'sported for fourteen years, and I 'ont be living to see him come back again. Anwyl! anywyl!' Here tears came, and Mrs Jenkins sank upon a chair, and covered her face with her hands. Rowland let them flow for a time, and then putting his hand kindly on her shoulder said,-- 'Aunt 'Lizbeth! you must try to keep up for Howel's sake. He will like you to visit him now, perhaps,' The kind tones touched a gentler chord in the poor woman's heart, and she looked up at Rowland, like one awaking from a dream. 'Seure! Mr Rowland Prothero! I'm thinking you're too fine for us now. A clergy and a rector! oh seure! you'll not be going to see my poor Howels!' 'Yes, I will, if you will try to be calm. I will see him first, and prepare him for your coming; I will not even ask his permission but go to him. I can gain admittance at once, I know, both as a clergyman and relation.' 'Now! go you directly! tell you my Howels--' 'I don't think I can go to-night. It is too late--but to-morrow I will go, on condition that you compose yourself, and return with me to my lodgings.' 'I 'ont be going to your lodgings, I 'ouldn't be leaving my Howels for the world.' 'You cannot see him to-night, you must not stay with the people of this house after what you said to-day, or they will take advantage of your being alone, to make you say more. I cannot remain here to-night, and I am the only friend you have in town to whom you could go.' 'Treue, for you, Rowland Prothero. There's my Lady Simpson was asking me to stay with her, when my Howels and I was having money enough to buy her presents, and her son and doater did go to Abertewey when they did like--and now, not wan of all the fine folks do come and say, "How was you, Mrs Jenkins?"' Rowland ventured to repeat a few verses from Scripture, and to beg her to turn her mind to better thoughts. Then he induced her to put on her bonnet and cloak and go home with him, promising to bring her back the following day, and retaining the lodging for another week. They passed a miserable evening. It was in vain that Rowland strove to comfort or advise his guest. She did nothing but abuse justice, and lament her son's past grandeur.