‘Do you think so?’ replied the girl, with a sad smile. ‘Well, if I do, my parents shall owe their comfort to no other hand than mine; and if I don’t, you will not forget your promise to me.’
And before he could say another word to her, she was gone. The two old people were waiting her return with the greatest anxiety, and exuberant were their rejoicings when they heard the news she had to tell. The earl had not only promised to try and purchase Panty-cuckoo Farm, but had said that in the event of his failure, he would transplant them all to one of his own farms in Huntingdonshire.
‘Ay,’ exclaimed the old man, ‘though it’ll be a sore wrench to leave Panty-cuckoo, it will be a fine thing to live under his lordship’s tenancy. Sir Archibald, he’s only an upstart when all’s said and done. His father was the first baronet, and it takes centuries to make ’em know their places. He wouldn’t never have thought of sweating the tenantry for to pay his own rates and taxes, if he’s been a thorough-bred ‘un, but I suppose he knows no better. But the Earl of Ilfracombe, why, of course, he knows how to treat those that work to make the prosperity of the country. He’s a real aristocrat, born and bred, and wouldn’t demean himself to raise a man’s rent to pay for his own extravagances. Whatever we might feel at leaving the old farm, lass, I don’t know if we wouldn’t be wiser to take his lordship’s offer at once, and transplant all our goods and chattels to Huntingdonshire.’
‘But you mustn’t do anything in a hurry, father,’ exclaimed his wife, alarmed by the rapidity of her good man’s ideas; ‘you must wait till we have word from his lordship. But it’s a fine thing you thought of sending our Nell over to the Hall to speak with him. It’s made our fortunes. We shall all be the better for it, sha’n’t us, my lass?’
‘Yes, all,’ replied her daughter in a dull tone, as if she were dreaming.
‘Now I declare girl, if you haven’t got one of your muddly fits on again,’ said Mrs Llewellyn. ‘If you spoke to his lordship in that sort of way, I wonder he ever listened to you. He must have thought you were half asleep. It all comes of your taking no breakfast. Who ever heard of a healthy young woman beginning the day on an empty stomach? It’s absurd to think of such a thing.’
Nell went up to her mother, and kissed her wrinkled forehead.
‘Never mind, mother,’ she said gently; ‘don’t grumble at me to-day, for I don’t feel as if I could bear it. You shall think better of me to-morrow, I promise you.’
And she left the farmer and his wife to congratulate each other on the possession of so handsome a daughter, that no one could find it in their hearts to refuse her anything.
And Nell sat in her own room, thinking—thinking. It was nearing the hour when she had promised to give Mr Portland her answer. He had agreed to come to that place for it, and stand under her window till she appeared to give it him. He was more eager for it than one would have given him credit for. He had lain awake the night before, wondering if Nell had really meant what she said, and what his life would feel like when she brought her gracious presence into it. He could jest and be sarcastic with her when he saw no likelihood of her consenting to marry him, but now that she had half consented, his feelings seemed already to have become somewhat purified by the very possibility of such a thing. Perhaps those few hours of anticipation formed the best part of Jack Portland’s existence—the least like the years that had gone before it. He felt humbled as he looked back upon the past—fearful as he contemplated the future. For the first time, he knew himself to be utterly unworthy of the regard or the possession of a good woman. And as he stood beneath Nell Llewellyn’s window, he felt certain that she would tell him she could not consent to such a step. Fancy, his relief and pleasure when she looked for a moment from the casement and said: