At this point Kathie and Neville looked at each other. Neville grew very red and Kathie's eyes flashed. Suddenly, before Kathie knew what he was going to do, Neville stood up and went a step or two towards the two old men, who were at the other end of the carriage. They stopped talking and looked at him.
'I—I think you should know,' he began, growing redder still, 'before you say any more of Captain Powys, that I am his son. And if anybody were to say anything against him'—
He had no time to finish his sentence. The older of the two farmers, for such they appeared to be, interrupted him eagerly.
'Say aught against him! Bless you, little master, if you'd waited a minute you'd have heard what I was a-going to say to my friend here. Not that he was a-going to say any wrong, but he's not from our part, and he doesn't know Master David. And so you're Master David's boy, to be sure, and missy there?' And he nodded his head towards Kathleen inquiringly.
'Yes, I'm his daughter,' said Kathie; 'you wouldn't expect to see us travelling third-class, I daresay, but it's because of what you were speaking about, our papa's not getting the property, you know.'
The old man's face grew very sympathetic.
'To be sure,' he said, 'to be sure. And you and master here,' he went on, 'you'll be going to Ty-gwyn—to Miss Powys's? To be sure.'
'To Miss Clotilda Powys,' Kathleen corrected. 'I'm Miss Powys.'
'Oh, indeed,' he said, looking rather mystified. 'And miss—the lady from Ty-gwyn—she'll be meeting you at the station, at Frewern Bay, no doubt. It's a long ride from there to Ty-Gwyn.'
'Is it?' said Neville. 'I thought the village—Hafod—was quite near Frewern Bay.'