'You know we settled that long ago, cousin Howel; but father will not consent, unless—unless—'
'Pshaw, but if I ask his consent, and he refuses it, will you marry me then, dear Netta, dear, dear cousin?'
Howel fixed his large, piercing eyes upon Netta, who coloured and trembled, and murmured, 'Oh, Howel, I don't know—how can I?'
'How can you? Who is to prevent you? We can marry and go abroad, and return and ask pardon, and I will take a fine house, and they will be only too proud to own us?'
'Not father, Howel, unless—'
'Unless I become a steady fellow, and settle down, as I mean to do, if you will marry me. But if you refuse me, I shall just go on as I am, or put an end to my wretched life perhaps.'
'Howel, don't be so wicked,' cried Netta, bursting into tears.
'Then, Netta, you must give me your promise to be mine, whether your father consents or not, whenever I write you word, through my mother, that I will have a carriage ready at the corner near the turnpike. But I can settle all particulars at the proper time, provided only you promise. Remember, you have told me hundreds of times that you will be my wife, and neither father nor mother should prevent it.'
'I do not know—I cannot tell whether it would be right.'
'Not right to save me from destruction, to make me what I ought to be, to cleave to your husband as if he were yourself, in spite of parents or relations! I am sure, Netta, that you are taught to do all this; besides, you cannot help it, if you love me. You know that I would have married you when I had nothing, as readily as I will now that I have tens of thousands, and surely this deserves a return?'