"'Well, indeed, then,' said Llewellyn, changing his face to a kind of blank, 'I have no intentions. I think that the family has done more than enough for the girl already.'
"And he would say no otherwise. Nor was it to any purpose that the lawyer looked at Mrs. Llewellyn. She was examining the furniture, and feeling the stuffing of the sofa, and did not seem to hear. He could make nothing of the three Evanses, Nant. They all cried, 'Yes, indeed!' to what Llewellyn said. Only the Evan Bevans remained, and he turned to them in despair.
"'I am sure,' he said, addressing himself to them, 'that you will do something to carry out the testator's wishes? Your share under the will, Mr. Bevan, will amount to three hundred a year. This young lady has nothing--no relations, no home. May I take it that you will settle--say fifty pounds a year upon her? It need only be for her life.'
"Mr. Bevan fidgeted under this appeal. His wife answered it. 'Certainly not, Mr. Hughes. If it were twenty pounds now, once for all, or even twenty-five--and Llewellyn and my nephews would say the same--I think we might manage that?'
"But Llewellyn shook his head obstinately. 'I have said I have no intentions, and I am a man of my word!' he answered. 'Let the girl go out to service. It is what we have always wanted her to do. Here are my nephews. They won't mind a young housekeeper.'
"Well, they all laughed at this except Mr. Hughes, who gathered up his papers looking very black, and not thinking of future clients. Llewellyn, however, did not care a bit for that, but walked to the bell, masterful-like, and rang it. 'Tell the undertaker,' he said to the servant, 'that we are ready.'
"It was as if the words had been a signal, for they were followed almost immediately by an outcry overhead and quick running upon the stairs. The legatees looked uncomfortably at the carpet: the lawyer was blacker than before. He said to himself, 'Now that poor child has fainted!' The confusion seemed to last some minutes. Then the door was opened, not by the undertaker, but by Gwen Madoc. The mourners rose with a sigh of relief; to their surprise she passed by even Llewellyn, and with a frightened face walked across to the lawyer. She whispered something in his ear.
"'What!' he cried, starting back a pace from her, and speaking so that the wine-glasses on the table rattled again. 'Do you know what you are saying, woman?'
"'It is true,' she answered, half crying, 'and no fault indeed of mine neither.'
"Gwen added more in quick, short sentences, which the family, strain their ears as they might, could not overhear.