The sound of a stick knocking at the back door completed the victory, and Mrs Prothero went sobbing upstairs, whilst Gladys opened the door to admit Nancy, Cwmriddle, and another gossip who had overtaken her.

Mr Prothero came into the yard at the same time.
'Well, sir, to be sure; only to think of Miss Netta,' began the old woman in Welsh.
'If you're come here to talk about her, I'll thank you to go away again, and tell everybody you meet that they may have their nine days' wonder about us anywhere but here,' roared Mr Prothero into Nancy's ear, who was very deaf.
The old crones, knowing Mr.Prothero well, turned away quicker than they came, and soon began to do his bidding, perceiving that he was in an 'awful way.' 'Mr Prothero, do you know I have sent Mrs Prothero to bed,' began Miss Gwynne, advancing towards him; 'she looks so very ill and unlike herself that I am sure you must be careful of her for a time.' 'All that ungrateful, good-for-nothing daughter of ours, Miss Gwynne.
What would she care if she were to kill her mother?
I know you are a true lady and a kind friend, miss, and have more sense than all the rest of the country put together, so I don't mind telling you what I think.
Those that disobey their parents'll be seure to come to a bad end.' 'We will hope the best, Mr Prothero; and you must remember that you have your sons to comfort you.' 'Fine comfort to be seure.

There's Owen as wild as an untrained colt, and Rowland such a grand man up in London that he 'ont know his own father by-and-by.

Dining with bishops and rectors, and as fine as my lord.

I always told my wife that all Mrs Jonathan's eddication was too much for us, and so it is turning out.