‘Well my lass,’ began Mrs Llewellyn, ‘here’s Hugh waiting for you, you see, so I’m glad you’re come. He’s been main patient, sitting here for the best part of an hour.’
‘Well, good-night,’ said Nell, making for the door that led to her chamber.
‘Why, won’t you stop and talk to him a bit now you have come?’ remonstrated her mother.
‘I have already told Hugh that I have no time for talking to him to-night,’ replied Nell, without arresting her footsteps.
‘And you told me, also, that you were not going to leave the farm to-night, Nell,’ said the young man, with the least bit of reproach in his tone.
She turned round on him with unnecessary fierceness.
‘And what is it to you if I do or not? Are you my keeper? Am I obliged to account to you for my actions? My father and mother are the only people who have any right to find fault with me, or to regulate my goings-out or comings-in, and I do not hold myself responsible to anyone else. You are taking too much upon yourself, Hugh. For the future, I shall refuse to tell you anything.’
And she flew upstairs, leaving both her mother and Hugh Owen in a state of consternation at such an unusual exhibition of temper on her part.
CHAPTER VIII.
Christmas was over; the Countess Dowager and the Ladies Devenish had taken their departure from Thistlemere; the weather was inclement, and a great deal of time had to be spent indoors; which made Nora often wish that she and her husband were alone. One day she expressed something of the kind to him. She said,—