‘Oh, you naughty boy!’ cried Netta, as Owen ended his story.

‘A fine sturdy farmer you would make,’ said Mr Prothero, trying to stifle a very hearty fit of laughter, that burst out at last in spite of himself.  ’I’m glad you took in brother Jonathan, or he’d have had the laugh against me.’

Mrs Prothero had a tear in her eye as she smiled sadly, and shook her head at the darling son who had caused her nothing but love and grief since he was born; but the tear was soon kissed away, and the smile turned into a cheerful one by that son’s merry lips.

CHAPTER XII.

THE SEMPSTRESS.

Owen Prothero, like his sister Netta, had been very much spoilt by his father during his childhood and boyhood.  Indeed it would have been difficult not to have spoilt him.  Handsome in person, and frank in manners, he was a general favourite.  His uncle, the vicar, quite idolised him, and would have lavished a fortune on his education had he been of a studious nature.  His mother, alone, conscious of his many faults, strove to correct them, and to counterbalance the undue admiration he received on all sides, by impartial justice in her praises and reproofs.

But we have not much to do with his boyhood, which was wild and untameable; beyond the fact that, when sent by his good uncle to Rugby with a view to his becoming a clergyman, he resolutely declared his intention of going to sea, and ran away from school to effect his purpose.  He was captured, however by the masters, and a sharp look-out kept upon him for the future, which prevented further escapades.

He did not make brilliant progress in his studies, though he was clever enough, and accordingly his aunt persuaded her vicar to adopt her favourite nephew, Rowland, in his stead, and to let Owen go a voyage or two in a merchant vessel, to cure him of his love for a seafaring life.

It was Mr Prothero’s wish to have one of his two sons a farmer, he did not much care which, so it was with some difficulty that Aunt Jonathan induced him to listen to her proposal of making a clergyman of Rowland.  He yielded at last, however, in the hope that when Owen had had enough of the sea, he would come and settle at home, since, next to this, his favourite hobby, he professed to like farming.

Owen was about fifteen when he first went to sea—­he was just seven-and-twenty when he came home with the peep-show.  During the intermediate twelve years he had been all over the world:  not merely as a sailor, but as an adventurer, traveller, speculator, merchant, and wandering Jack-of-all trades.  As quickly as he made money, so he lost it, spent it, or gave it away; and when he had no other resource, he worked as a common sailor, or labourer, until some lucky chance opened a passage for some fresh excitement.  There is this to be said in his favour.  During this long period he was never chargeable to his father