The next day but one Gladys went to see her, and did what she could to comfort and help her; she was used to all sorts of sorrow and sin, and was so gentle a consoler, and so Christian an adviser, that poor Mrs Jenkins asked her to come and stay with her always; but that could not be; she went, however, as often as she could leave Netta.

Netta’s will and word was now law with her father; he refused her nothing; he even allowed her to see her mother-in-law, provided the meeting was managed when he was from home.  It was so managed, and a melancholy meeting it proved; the old woman’s tears and sobs were so irrepressible, that Gladys was obliged to shorten it as much as possible; Netta, however, was calmer than she expected.

‘Mother,’ she said, ‘I want you to promise me one thing.  If I die—­’

’Oh, Netta, fach! why was you talking of dying? you ‘ont be dying.’

‘I said if, mother.  I wish Gladys, who is going to marry Owen—­’

‘Gladys, Owen! name o’ goodness! and your father! he ’ouldn’t let you marry my Howels, and she—­’

’Is very good, mother, whilst I am very bad.  But I wish her and Owen to bring up my child; you must tell Howel so, when he comes back; and when she is grown up, she will be a comfort to you and him.  My head is confused; I dreamt last night Howel was here, and he was going to take away Minette.  Is he with you, mother? tell me! do you know where he is?  Oh! if I could see him once more! once more!’

’He is being safe in America, Netta, fach, but is coming home soon I am thinking.  Don’t you be dying; he was doating upon you, and if he do come home, and don’t be finding you, he’ll be dying too.’

‘Are you sure he will come back?  Did he tell you so himself?’

’To be seure.  He is coming back soon, only he must be paying his debts first.  Come you!’

Mrs Jenkins’ unmitigated falsehoods did Netta a great deal of good; they cheered her, and gave her hope for the time.  Gladys doubted whether hopes so based, and to be so miserably crushed, were to be encouraged, but she had not the heart to undeceive her.

When Mr Prothero returned home that evening, he was surprised to see Netta looking so much more cheerful than she had done since her return.

‘Better, much better,’ was her answer to his eager look of inquiry.  ’And now I am better, I have another favour to ask.  I want to see Owen and Gladys married while I am here.  I think it would almost cure me to feel that I had helped to do one kind and right thing in my wrong life.  Would you mind it, father?’

’I shall be very glad to see them married, my dear; the sooner the better.  Owen’s good-for-nothing now but sitting with his arm round Gladys’ waist all day long, and I hate those sort of follies.’

‘Oh!  Davy,’ said Mrs Prothero, ’young people will be young people, and I’m sure no one can be so modest as Gladys,’