He draws her to him, and lets her grief have way.

Few words are spoken for a time, but at last Netta dries her tears and says,-- 'I was so frightened, cousin, and I didn't think it would be so hard to leave mother without saying good-bye.

Mother was always kind.' 'Hide you, Howel! hide you, Netta! there's Mr Jonathan Prothero,' says Mrs Jenkins, shrinking back into the corner of the fly.
Howel peeps out and sees Netta's worthy uncle, bag on back, setting forth on some archaeological search.
Howel and Netta lean back in the fly whilst he passes, little thinking whom the vehicle contains.
'Uncle and aunt will be glad at least,' says Netta.

'Aunt says you are very clever and handsome, Howel, and wonders why father won't let us--' 'Marry, Netta--say the word.

I suppose Aunt Jonathan found out my talents and beauty after I acquired my fortune.' After driving about ten miles they stop to change horses, and in the course of three or four hours arrive at the Swansea railway station, newly erected within the last few months.