She thought of Netta, and of her very different flight from the same house; she fancied that if she had been in her place, no lover, however dear, could have prevailed upon her to leave so good a mother; but she was different.  An orphan and a beggar, she had no right to remain to cause dissension between father and son.

And so she fell upon her knees, and prayed for blessings on every member of that family; she forgot no one, not even poor Owen, whose suit she had rejected.  Most especially she prayed that he might be a comfort to his parents, and turn from his wild, wandering ways, to those of rest and sobriety; she particularly used that latter word, which would have sounded formal in less earnest lips.

With tearful eyes, and throbbing heart, but with a resigned spirit, she rose from her knees, took her little bundle in her hand, and went quickly out into the passage.  She did not trust herself to pass the doors of her slumbering friends, but went by the back-staircase into the kitchen, and thence into the yard.  There was a thick mist over the face of nature, falling like a heavy veil on the rising sun, and making the early day but a lengthened night; not a sound was heard, not an animal had yet been aroused from sleep, save Lion, the large watch-dog, whose duty it was to wake when others slept, and he bounded towards Gladys, and her suppressed, ‘Down, Lion, down,’ failed to quiet him.  As she hurried up the road, he ran after her, and it was not until she reached the gate, that she had courage to command him with heightened voice, and threatening manner, to go home.  The dog crouched, and then licked the hand, upraised to send him back.  Poor Gladys fell upon his neck, and burst into tears.  He licked off the tears with a wistful, canine earnestness and love, and again prepared to follow her.

‘Back, good dog!  Home, Lion!’ said Gladys.

The dog turned away with his tail between his legs, and walked half-way down the road.  Gladys hurried through the gate, and along the public road, shutting the gate behind her upon Lion.  No sooner was she out of sight than the tail was again in motion, the head turned, and Lion was peering over the hedge after her.  As she swiftly pursued her way, turning neither to the right nor to the left, she did not perceive the faithful friend that was literally dogging her steps; but still Lion followed; and thoughtless of master and mistress at home, kept in view the poor beggar-girl who had managed to win his love, together with that of all the animal kind around and about Glanyravon.

Thus pursuing her unknown way, and thus pursued by Lion, we must leave Gladys and return to the farm.