Howel gave some orders in a very commanding tone to the various lords-in-waiting, and then the door closed upon their majesties, and the admiring crowds saw them no more.

It is no wonder that the world without Plas Abertewey was much engaged in talking of, and speculating on, the world within.  Howel’s horses, Netta’s dress, Miss Simpson’s father’s baronetcy, Captain Dancy’s regiment, Plas Abertewey’s appointments, the footmen’s liveries, the reputed wealth of the miser, even Mrs Griffith Jenkins’ moire antique, mourning ornaments and gold watch were variously remarked upon, and doubtless with great good nature and deserving approbation.  We all know how we rejoice when our neighbours rise to wealth or eminence.  There was not one breakfast-table within twenty miles of Abertewey, from that of my lord and my lady to Jim Davies and his wife, shoemakers, over which the arrival of Howel Jenkins, the miser, as he was called, according to his father before him, was not pulled to pieces, from the first sound of the bells to the last shout at his hall door.

‘Shall we call?’ were the words on the lips of all heads of families, generally settled by the said ‘heads’ driving in their very best equipages and gayest clothes, to pay the wedding visit to the reputed millionnaire and his pretty, elegantly attired wife.

Money, as I have somewhat commonplacedly remarked elsewhere, is the master-key to most hearts, and Howel found that nearly all the hearts in his native county were opened by his wealth.  The exceptions were principally those of his wife’s family, and even in some of these he managed to turn the key.

It was shortly after the arrival at Plas Abertewey that Owen and Gladys simultaneously left the farm, and we find the former on that same morning, standing at a little distance from this residence of his sister and Howel, surveying it, and ruminating on the family fortunes.

‘Well done, Howel,’ he said to himself; ’if money hasn’t done something for you, I don’t know for whom it has done anything.  I declare I will try and make some myself, and come back and marry Gladys in spite of the world.’

Then he began to ask himself, whether it was kind and brotherly to pass by his only sister’s door without saying good-bye to her, and whether his father had any right to expect all her relations to give her up, because he chose to do so?  His reflections were suddenly cut short by the appearance of Howel and another gentleman, bound, apparently, on a fishing expedition.

‘Owen, come at last!’ cried Howel, hastening up to him with great good will.  ’Better late than never.  I am very glad to see you, so will be Netta.  Travelled early to hide your carpet bag, or whatever it is?’

‘Knapsack,’ said Owen, shaking his cousin’s offered hand; ’I’m off to sea again.’

’A queer road to take; but you come to see us on your way, of course.  Let me introduce you to Mr Simpson, Sir John Simpson’s son.  My cousin, Mr Simpson, my wife’s brother.