expected; but inside there seemed no lack of comforts. The house was
divided into two apartments, one large, roomy, and dark, into which
Owen entered immediately; and before the blushing Nest came from the
inner chamber (for she had seen the young Squire coming, and hastily
gone to make some alteration in her dress), he had had time to look
around him, and note the various little particulars of the room.
Beneath the window (which commanded a magnificent view) was an oaken
dresser, replete with drawers and cupboards, and brightly polished to
a rich dark colour. In the farther part of the room Owen could at
first distinguish little, entering as he did from the glaring
sunlight, but he soon saw that there were two oaken beds, closed up
after the manner of the Welsh: in fact, the domitories of Ellis
Pritchard and the man who served under him, both on sea and on land.
There was the large wheel used for spinning wool, left standing on
the middle of the floor, as if in use only a few minutes before; and
around the ample chimney hung flitches of bacon, dried kids'-flesh,
and fish, that was in process of smoking for winter's store.

Before Nest had shyly dared to enter, her father, who had been
mending his nets down below, and seen Owen winding up to the house,
came in and gave him a hearty yet respectful welcome; and then Nest,
downcast and blushing, full of the consciousness which her father's
advice and conversation had not failed to inspire, ventured to join
them. To Owen's mind this reserve and shyness gave her new charms.

It was too bright, too hot, too anything to think of going to shoot
teal till later in the day, and Owen was delighted to accept a
hesitating invitation to share the noonday meal. Some ewe-milk
cheese, very hard and dry, oat-cake, slips of the dried kids'-flesh
broiled, after having been previously soaked in water for a few