Did you, did Howel play much abroad ?' 'Yes, I learned from Madame Duvet?
and I think Howel and Mr Deep and the other gentlemen used to play all day.

You know they have nothing else to do in Paris.

It would be very dull there without cards.' 'Poor Netta! is that what you learned with your little bit of French ?' 'I assure you, Owen, Monsieur Letellier and a dozen other Frenchmen said I had a beautiful accent, and that they would have thought I was born in Paris.' Owen laughed heartily, and Netta was offended, and told him to go away.
Just as he was in the act of obeying, Howel appeared.
'What! not up, Netta?
How's the head?
Owen, there's a letter for you.
Llanfach post-mark, and from a lady?
such a neat, pretty, ladylike hand! How sly you are to have lady correspondents, and not let us know who the charmer is!' 'Let me see the direction,' said Netta, trying to get the letter from her brother.
'No, no,' said Owen.

'I must keep my secret for the present when it is all settled you shall know.' 'It makes you blush, however,' laughed Howel.
'Is it Mary Jones, or Anne Jenkins, or Amelia Lewis, or Miss Richards, doctor, or Jemima Thomas--or--or--perhaps it is Gladys.

Ha, ha! do you know, Howel, Owen's last is mother's Irish girl, Gladys ?' 'Really ?' sneered Howel.