Poor Rowland almost whispered these few words, and as he did so, wished he could recall them, but now the deed was done, and she knew the secret of his childhood, boyhood, and manhood.  He said no more, but stood looking down upon her with his heart beating as it had never beaten before.

Higher and higher rose the colour on her cheek.  What were the feelings that deepened it so?  Alas! poor Rowland!  Pride, only pride.  For a moment she stood as if hesitating what to say, then, suddenly drawing herself up to her full height, she looked haughtily at him, and said words that he never forgot to his dying day.

’Mr Rowland Prothero, have you quite forgotten who I am, and who you are?’

With these words she made a stately bow, and turned towards the house.  Proudly and hastily she walked up the avenue; once she had turned round, and seeing Rowland standing exactly where she had left him, hurried on until she found herself in her own room, indulging in a very decided flood of indignant tears.

CHAPTER XXI.

THE BROTHERS.

During this short conversation between Rowland and Miss Gwynne, Gladys was still playing with the children at no great distance from them.  With all a woman’s penetration, she had guessed Rowland’s secret during his mother’s illness, and had perceived no symptoms of attachment on the part of Miss Gwynne; and now, with all a woman’s pity, she was watching him from afar.  She had seen them standing together, had marked the hasty bow and retreat of the lady, and the immoveable attitude of the gentleman; she saw that he continued to stand where Miss Gwynne had left him, as if he were a statue; she guessed something must have passed between them.

As twilight was fairly come on, she told the schoolmistress that she must go home, and begged her to see that the children dispersed when she thought best.  Owen, who was in the midst of a game of cricket with the boys, was as well aware of all Gladys’s movements as if he had been by her side.  He saw that she was shaking hands with the mistress, and that the children were imploring her to stay a little longer.  He went to her and asked her to remain until he had finished his game, in order that he might see her home.

She thanked him, but said, rather abruptly for her, that she must go at once, and, heedless of what he or others might think, went hastily across the park to Rowland.

‘That’s the way the wind blows, is it?’ said Owen to himself, whilst a frown gathered on his open forehead.

Rowland was unconscious of the approach of Gladys, and was startled from his trance by the words,—­

‘Mr Rowland, sir, I think the mistress will be expecting you home.’

He looked at her half unconsciously for a moment, and then rousing himself, said,—­

’Oh!  Gladys, is it you?  Yes, I will go directly.  Where?  Home?  Of course it is time.  I will walk with you.’