'What's _carte blanche_, cousin? You are become so grand.'
'Never mind--white paper with two meanings. And here is a present to begin with.'
Howel takes a leather case from his pocket and puts it into Netta's hand. She opens it, and sees a beautiful little gold watch and chain.
'Oh, you dear, kind cousin, Howel!' she cries; her eyes sparkling with delight. 'I have longed for one all my life.'
'Will you go back again, Netta dear?' asks Howel archly.
The watch and chain are duly put on, and then Howel continues,--
'To-morrow you will have a hard day's work. You must purchase a great many things that will be necessary for travelling that I could not buy. The rest we can get in Paris. I have invited my friends, Sir John and Lady Simpson, and their son and daughter, to the wedding, which I have fixed for the day after to-morrow. One of the reasons for my not being able to come to you yesterday was that I must be a fortnight in the parish where we are to be married before we are married. I just ran down by the night train, took the fly, and met you; and shall make up my lost night by sleeping in town, for certainly I slept nowhere yesterday. Can't sleep in a train like mother; always feel too excited.'
'I don't like those grand people,' interrupted Netta, pouting.
'You will know them directly. But don't let out anything about the farm, or father and mother; papa and mamma now, little coz. Miss Simpson guesses it is an elopement, I think, but I haven't told her so. They are very great friends of mine; very grand people.'
'Quite like Lady Nugent, I suppose,' suggests Netta.
'Quite--grander indeed. Well, I have ordered the wedding-breakfast, carriages, everything. Never had such fun in my life. It was quite an excitement. You don't know half my talents yet.'
'Suppose brother Rowland were to hear of it?' says Netta, frightened at the idea.
Howel laughs aloud, and awakes his mother.
'He is east, we are west, my dear cousin. He is amongst the plebeians, we the patricians; he is _canaille_, we are _noblesse_.'
''Tis a pleasure to be hearing you talk, Howel,' says Mrs Jenkins, yawning and rubbing her eyes.
'I was saying, mother, that we are to have a grand wedding, and you must take care not to let anything come out about the shop, faugh! or, indeed, not talk much to the friends I have asked--Lady Simpson, for instance,'