"Shouldn't wonder, indeed," said Gethin, clapping him on the back; "and there's proud he'll be to drive his old father to church with him!"
"Hech! hech! hech!" laughed the old man, sitting down and rubbing his knees. "Well, indeed, he's a fine boy, whatever!"
"Wasn't Gwilym there?" asked Ann.
"Yes, yes, to be sure, and he is looking very nice always; but I didn't notice him much today."
Meanwhile, in the town, Will and Gwilym had much to do; there were books to be got—there was a horse to be looked at for the farm—and, moreover, Will was to call upon Mr. Price the vicar, so the hours passed quickly away, until late in the afternoon when the crowd was a little thinning, the Nantmyny carriage passed through the street, within it Colonel Vaughan and his niece. Will saw it at once, and turned away to avoid recognition—for although nothing would have pleased him more, he was a man of great tact and common sense, and never spoiled a good chance by indiscreet intrusion. As he turned away, Colonel Vaughan caught sight of him, and, stopping the carriage, beckoned to a bystander, who touched his hat with a knobbed stake from the hedge.
"Isn't that young Owens of Garthowen?"
"Iss, sare," said the man, knocking his hat again.
"Ask him to come here, then."
And Will came, not too hurriedly, and with assumed nonchalance.
"Well, young man," said the colonel, "I want to know how your arm is?"