I hope in my heart everything is as fine
as fippence, or my lady 'll turn up her nose.'
'I can't make things neater, Davy.'
This was said by Mrs Prothero, in a desponding tone, quite different
from her former quiet cheerfulness, and she accompanied the words by
rubbing her hands nervously one over the other.
'There now, don't look as if you were going to be smothered. Mrs
Jonathan isn't so bad as all that. I wish to goodness Jonathan hadn't
married a fine lady. But then she brought him a good fortune, and it's
all the better for our children.'
'I don't want her money.'
'But if it wasn't for her, my dear, Rowland would never have had an
Oxford edication.'
'I'd as soon he had gone to Lampeter, or been made a good Wesleyan
minister, and then he might have been content to stay in Wales, instead
of going off to England.'
'There, there! never mind! He'll be a bishop some day; and though you do
still incline to the chapel, you'll be proud of that. Now, name o'
goodness, let's have some breakfast.'
With this peculiarly Welsh interjection, Mr Prothero turned towards the
farm, and, followed by his wife, went to the desired repast.
CHAPTER III.
THE FARMER'S DAUGHTER.
'Nobody has come for that poor girl, Netta, and I have'n't the heart to
send her away,' said Mrs Prothero to her only daughter Janetta, towards
the close of the Sunday, the morning of which we noticed in the last
chapter.
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