She was struck with the unusually grave tone of his reply, as he simply said, that if Gladys were like his other loves, he might forget her in the same way; but as she was quite different from any one he had ever liked before, so he should remember her as he had never before remembered any one.  She was also struck with his manner of wishing her good night, and of recommending Gladys to her care, entreating her not to be less kind to her than she had always been, because he had the misfortune to love her.

Mrs Prothero promised all he desired, scarcely believing, as she did so, in the depth of his affection.

‘And, mother, fach,’ he said, ’you must not be vexed if I run away again to cure myself.  There is nothing like sea air for my disease; and if I do, I promise to write regularly, and to come home at the end of my voyage.  Only be kind to Gladys, and don’t let her go away.’

Owen had a presentiment, that if he did not leave Glanyravon, Gladys would.

’And you must try to bring father round by degrees.  I don’t want to annoy him; and I know you are as fond of Gladys as if she were your own daughter, and father likes her, too.  Will you try, mother?’

‘Anything to keep you at home, and steady, my son,’ said Mrs Prothero with tears in her eyes, ’but you must not go away again, we cannot do without you.’

‘Only this once, for change of air; I assure you it is best’

‘Well, we will talk of this again, Owen; good night, and God bless you.’

’Just tell father not to be angry with me or Gladys, and that I can’t run away with her, because she won’t have me.  Good night, mother dear.’

Again Owen kissed his mother, more lovingly than usual, and so they parted for the night.

CHAPTER XXV.

THE FUGITIVE.

Gladys did not go to bed all that night.  If her mistress could have watched her occupations, seen her tears, and listened to her prayers, she would, at least, have known that she was grateful.  The first thing she did was to finish a cap that she had been making for her, the next to complete a large piece of ornamental netting, that had been long in secret progress, and had been intended as a present for that dear mistress’s birthday on the morrow.  The third, last and most difficult, was to write a letter.  Gladys usually wrote easily and well.  She had been accustomed to assist her father at an early age, and had been carefully taught by her mother, but on the present occasion she considered every sentence with a too painful thoughtfulness, and literally blotted her writing with her tears.

Morning was beginning to dawn before she had finished these tasks, and then she washed her face and hands, took off the pretty cotton gown she had on, and put on the one Netta gave her when first she came to Glanyravon.  An old straw hat that she had been in the habit of wearing in the fields, and a tidy, but plain shawl, completed her attire.  She had a few shillings which Mr Prothero had given her, and these she put into her pocket, together with a pincushion, and a curious foreign shell, gifts of Owen.