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'Do you sing, Mr Prothero? asked Miss Hall; 'all the Welsh are so musical that I think there are few who have not voices. 'I sometimes sing chants and sacred music; but I know very few songs, and those old ones. 'Perhaps you will take the bass of some of these old glees.
'But what did Netta say to me, cousin 'Lizbeth? I don't care if she was all gold from head to foot. I would rather have her here in rags, said Mrs Prothero, bursting afresh into tears. 'She's more likely to be here in satins and velvets, cousin, said Mrs Jenkins, rising from her seat, and walking up and down, apparently in great wrath.
The room was very untidy, and here, also, the bed had not been slept in the past night. Mrs Prothero was rubbing her hands and crying pitifully; more from fear of her husband's wrath than from sorrow for Owen, because she had anticipated a sudden flight. Mr Prothero began to stamp with rage. It was a long time before he could speak, and his wife had a certain fear that he would choke.
But thank you for letting me stay with Netta. I have so longed and prayed to see her again, and it has been brought about for me. Mrs Prothero remained one clear day and two nights longer at Abertewey. As Netta was quite out of danger before that time had expired, she thought it right to go home, both on Howel's account and her own husband's, whose anger she would have to allay.
'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?
'Don't be so fullish! Suddenly recollecting himself, he exclaimed, 'Where's Owen? Go you, mother, and see if we haven't had another 'lopement, 'No fear of that, said Mrs Prothero, leaving the room to do her husband's bidding. She stayed so long that Mr Prothero, out of patience, bustled after her. He found her standing before an open, half-empty chest of drawers.
Mr Prothero paid handsomely for his ale, and having learnt that Gladys and Lion went straight to Carmarthen, went thither also. He made some few inquiries at the small inns that he passed, but gained no information. He accordingly rode through the town, and took the direct route to Hob's Point, whence, he knew, she would probably sail for Ireland. The afternoon was far advanced, still he rode on.
'Treue for you there, my girl, said Mr Prothero, 'but I daresay mother will make believe that she knows something. 'Mother' found the object of their conversation that very evening in the wheat field, sitting under a tree, at work. She had sent her out for a walk, and this was her exercise.
Benham hardly attended at all to these interruptions. He went on to point out the elemental quality of the Russian situation. He led up to the assertion that to go to Russia, to see Russia, to try to grasp the broad outline of the Russian process, was the manifest duty of every responsible intelligence that was free to do as much. And so he was going, and if Prothero cared to come too
And then again Prothero was weeping like a vexed child. The end of Prothero's first love affair came to Benham in broken fragments in letters. When he looked for Anna Alexievna in December he never learnt her surname he found she had left the Cosmopolis Bazaar soon after Prothero's departure and he could not find whither she had gone. He never found her again.
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