it was not at all unlikely that he would marry some lady of rank.  He laughed heartily at the notion.  It was also rumoured that he meant to return and take a place in the neighbourhood, stand for the county, and be one of the greatest men in South Wales.  In short, the enchanter, the merlin, the open sesame, the omnipotent sorcerer gold was to work the miracles to which Howel had been so long looking forward.  And the gossips were not far wrong.  Gold is truly a famous master-key to all hearts and to all companies.

But whilst the gossips—­and who is not a gossip in a country neighbourhood?—­whilst the gossips were settling Howel’s future so comfortably and respectably for him, he was dispensing his gold amongst gamblers and the like—­paying debts of honour as they are called.

However, Mr Prothero thought it not unlikely that what the gossips said might prove true, and was therefore tolerably comfortable about his spoilt pet, Netta.  When his anger and her pouting had subsided, matters went on much as usual for a time at the farm.  Even the blaze that was kindled at the incursion of the Irish girl, had well-nigh gone out, and Mr Prothero had nearly forgotten her existence.

She, meanwhile, was slowly recovering under Mrs Prothero’s kind care.  One day, that good woman was sitting with her in the little room that had been allotted to her, and said,—­

‘Is there anything you could think of that would amuse you, my dear?’

‘If I might—­’ Gladys began and paused.

‘Pray, go on, do not be afraid to ask.’

’If I might only make up that cap for you, ma’am, I should be so proud.  I used to make caps at home.’

Mrs Prothero was manufacturing a cap for herself, and had a certain womanly fear as to how it would turn out, if transferred to other fingers; but she did not like to refuse the request, so she resigned it into the thin hands of Gladys.  She was almost immediately called away, and did not return for some hours.  When she again visited her invalid she found her quite excited with her work that she had just completed.

‘Oh, what a pretty cap!’ said Mrs Prothero, quite astonished at the taste displayed.  ’I must just run and show it to Netta—­I am so much obliged to you.’

Mrs Prothero left the room and soon returned, followed by her daughter.

‘Can you trim bonnets as well as make caps?’ asked Netta, forgetful of infection when her personal interest was involved.

‘Yes, miss, a little,’ replied Gladys modestly.

‘I wish you would trim mine for me to-morrow.’

’Oh, thank you, miss!  If you will only let me try I shall be so grateful.’

‘She does not seem like a beggar after all,’ thought Netta.  ’Who taught you to work so nicely?’ she said aloud.

’I was apprenticed to a mantua-maker and milliner for six months, miss, and after that I worked for the neighbours.’