‘Why should I care for Netta, who could marry any one I like?’ were his thoughts.  ’I suppose because she really loves me, and because they all oppose me.  Well, supposing I do turn over a new leaf, and spend the gold my father got so usuriously, in doing good!  That would be making a use of a miser’s money, rarely, if ever, made before? and might be worth the trial, if only to work a new problem, whether ill-gotten wealth could conduce to moral health.  I should like to out-Herod that puppy Rowland, and make a saint of myself out of a sinner.  That would be working out two problems at once.  I wonder whether Netta will help me to solve them?’

Netta, meanwhile, was receiving a very severe lecture from her brother, to which she did not condescend to reply, until he spoke of what his father would say to her meeting Howel clandestinely,

‘I suppose you are not going to be cross enough to tell father,’ said Netta’

‘I shall certainly think it my duty to tell him,’ was the reply.

‘Then you are an unkind, unfeeling, unnatural brother,’ cried Netta, bursting into tears.

’Will you promise not to meet Howel again without my father or mother’s consent?’ asked Rowland, relenting,

’I won’t promise anything? and Howel is a thousand times nicer and kinder than you are.  You have no feeling for any one.  I wish Owen were at home.’

‘Netta, you are very unjust? you know I only wish your good.’

’And I suppose you wish Howel’s good, too.  Just as his father is dead, and he meaning to be good, and only wishing to see me before he goes to London, and having plenty of money to do what he likes, and intending to pay his debts with it, and—­and—­’

Here sobs and tears came to the rescue of the voluble words that would soon have worn themselves out—­for Netta had no great flow of language.

Rowland was perplexed.  He was fond of his sister? he wished Howel well? he did not know whether it would be best to let them marry or not.  If they were prevented, they would either take French leave, or hate all their relations? and if they married they would not be happy, he was sure.  But he knew it was wrong to deceive his parents.  In this uncertain state of mind they reached home, through, the little hawthorn lane before described.  Mrs Prothero was on the look out for them, she having returned from chapel and missed them.

Netta ran past her mother into the house, without replying to her question concerning her headache, and Rowland at once related to his mother what he had seen of Howel and Netta’s private interview, which that good lady was very much distressed to hear.

CHAPTER IX.

THE IRISH BEGGAR.

Glanyravon farm was anything but a quiet home during the ensuing week.  Mrs Prothero thought it right to inform her husband of what had passed; and he blustered and raged even more than he had ever done about the Irish beggars.  Everybody thought proper to try to convert Netta, but none of them knew the indomitable obstinacy of her character, and all signally failed.  Even Uncle and Aunt Jonathan had their turn, and drove over on purpose to canvass the matter; but as the elders disagreed upon the various points at issue, it was no wonder that all remained much as it was before the unfortunate meeting we have mentioned.