The following day, Owen again tried to get some private conversation with Howel or Netta, but in vain.  The breakfast was even later than the previous morning, as Howel did not go out fishing, and afterwards there were more distant calls to make, and Netta was engaged in preparing her dress with her maid for a dinner-party at Mr Rice Rice’s, at which she desired to appear particularly grand.  The gentlemen were playing billiards part of the day, and riding the rest, in neither of which amusement Owen joined.  Madame Duvet did her best to amuse him, and succeeded very well, for Owen was far from insensible to the charms of beauty, and, in spite of Gladys, could not resist flirting a little, in his own matter-of-fact way, with a pretty woman.

The three ladies, Captain Dancy and Howel, were the dinner guests at Mr Rice Rice’s, the other gentlemen were invited for the dance in the evening.  Young Rice Rice had given Owen a lame invitation the previous day, which he had declined; never having been in the habit of visiting him when at home, he did not choose to do so under Howel’s countenance.

Owen’s astonishment was brought to a climax that evening when his sister appeared dressed for this, her first public appearance on the small stage of a country-neighbourhood, or, to speak more respectfully, county visiting.  It was Howel’s pleasure that she should make it in point lace and diamonds.  Not even to Owen was it whispered that the lace was a wonderfully good imitation, or that the diamonds, instead of being of the first water, were first-rate paste; and no one suspected the deception.  The great millionnaire, Howel Jenkins, could well afford to give his pretty wife the real jewels and lace, and had the credit of so doing; and as no one, save himself and the jeweller, knew that they were false, he thought himself a very clever fellow for gaining the reputation of unbounded liberality upon very small means.  Be it said, however, that his own studs, pin and ring, were real.

The French maid had eclipsed herself in Netta’s toilet, and Owen felt that if she were not his sister, he must have fallen in love with her himself.  The black roguish eyes sparkled like the brilliants she wore, and the complexion was scarcely rivalled by the roses she had in her bouquet.

Howel looked really proud of her, and it is not surprising that he felt greatly elevated as he took the reins from the coachman and drove off in his fine new carriage, drawn by capital horses, and attended by liveried servants.

His last whisper to Netta, before they entered Mr Rice Rice’s drawing-room was, ’Keep up your consequence, and don’t say, “Yes, indeed!” every minute.’