Sir Owen’s constitution was completely broken down; he walked with difficulty through the hall, leaning on De Lancaster’s arm, who saw with concern the change, that had been wrought in his once sturdy frame. Philip not being disposed to quit his corner, Captain Henry Wilson ushered in Mrs. David Owen, who having made her Spanish salutations to the company, took her seat upon the sopha, and gave the captain to understand that there was room for him to sit beside her. She made an excuse for her son, that he was out with the hounds, and had not returned, but would pay his compliments to Mr. De Lancaster in the course of the afternoon: she turned a look upon her bottle-green lover, which was not very expressive of complacency, and immediately played off her best graces on the captain: she took notice of his uniform, and complimented him by observing it was quite as brilliant as that of the Spanish guards--If we, who wear it, are quite as brave, the captain courteously replied, our finery will be well bestowed. She addressed herself to Cecilia, and observed that Master John, as she called him, was very much grown. He had taken his seat beside his godfather Sir Owen, who, when he had recovered his breath, said to De Lancaster--We are come, my good sir, to pay our compliments to you on this occasion, and have brought Ap-Rees with us to give you a specimen of his art, which you will understand, but I do not. Rachel, as you see, has set herself out in all her finery to do grace to your festival, but you must take a plain man in a plain coat, for I am too ill to thrust my crazy carcase into a fresh doublet, and shall hardly shift my rigging till I change it for a suit of sheep’s wool only. De Lancaster shook his head, turned an eye of pity on his friend, but made no answer. Sir Owen had now taken his godson by the hand, and was asking him why he did not go out with the hounds--I wait, John replied, till I can see you in the field, mounted on your favourite horse Glendowr; then I shall turn out with pleasure--Ah! my dear boy, cried Sir Owen, never, never again in this life shall I find myself upon the back of Glendowr. I can only look at him through the window, when he is led out to amuse me. He is the best horse and the best hunter in England: Lamprey was his sire, and Lamprey belonged to Sir William Morgan of Tredegar. I am torn to pieces for Glendowr, but a sack of money would not buy him: nephew David spells hard to borrow him, but I won’t lend him to David of all men living, for he is cruel to his horses, and abuses the fine creature, that carries him; but I will lend him to you, John, freely and willingly, for you are merciful, and will use him well; nay, I could find it in my heart to give him to you out and out. Upon no account, John exclaimed, would I take him, whilst it can afford you, my dear sir, a moment’s pleasure to look at him.