‘My darling, I don’t know what you mean?’

‘I mean—­You won’t be cross, father, bach?’

‘Never again with you, Netta, please God.’

’Will you promise to grant me this great favour, now that my head is clear, and I have no pain, and can ask it right?’

’There is little I ’ould refuse you, Netta; but I should rather hear it first.’

’It is about Owen and Gladys, father.  They have loved one another ever since they were first together.  I found it out in the train; and when Owen pressed Gladys very hard to tell him why she didn’t love him, she said it was because she had promised you something.  I could not hear what; but I heard enough to know that she loved Owen dearly.  And she is good and clever; and, oh! so kind and gentle to me.  I never think now of what I used to think so much—­how she was a beggar at our gate; and everybody in London looks up to her and loves her.  Mr and Mrs Jones, Miss Gwynne, and Rowland, all treat her like a lady.  I should die, I think I should, so much happier, or go away when I am fetched, so much happier, if I could know she was with you as a daughter.  I have been very disobedient and wilful; but she has been obedient and grateful, though she was not your child.  When I left mother to die of fever, she nursed her and saved her life.  May God forgive me, for Christ’s sake, and bless her!  She has made Owen steady.  She has nursed the sick.  She has taught in the poor, wretched London ragged-schools, as well as in the others.  She has made clothes for the poor.  What has she not done?  Oh, that I were like her!  And now she is waiting on me, and helping mother, and nursing my child, like a common servant.  Oh, father! take to her instead of me.  Indeed indeed, you will never repent—­never!’

As Netta spoke, her wasted cheek flushed, her eyes sparkled, and her manner grew more and more animated.  Her father listened attentively, without interrupting her, and when she paused, said,—­

’Netta, fach, are you seure you didn’t dream or fancy this?  Owen declared to me, Gladys ‘ouldn’t have him, and didn’t love him.’

’Because you would not let her, father.  Think of her making him believe this, and yet loving him dearly all the time; and because she was too grateful to you and mother to do what you don’t like.’

’Yes; the girl’s a good girl, Netta, I don’t deny that; but I can’t bear the Irish, and don’t want Owen, who is a fine, sensible young man, who might have any respectable young ’ooman, to marry a girl nobody knows of, and there’s the treuth!  If you let him alone, he’d marry Miss Richards.’

’Never, father!  Only ask him; for my sake—­though I don’t deserve you should do anything for me.’

’There—­there; don’t you begin to cry, and excite yourself.  I’ll ask the boy.’

’Now, father!  He’s in the hall; I heard him whistling.  Let him come here.’

Mr Prothero went out and called Owen, who came in forthwith He began the subject at once.