Gladys, the Reaper Part 81

'Is Miss Richards pretty, uncle?' asked Minette. 'Is she as pretty as Gladys?'

'That depends upon taste.'

'But what do you think, uncle? She must be very pretty, if she is as pretty as my dear Gladys! Isn't Gladys pretty, uncle?'

'Gladys knows what I think on that subject,' said Owen, 'but she doesn't care what I think.'

This was said so that Netta, sitting opposite, did not hear.

'Oh, Mr Owen!' said Gladys, involuntarily.

'Oh, Mrs Snow!' said Owen.

'As the day went on, Netta got very weary, and, finally, slept. Minette, also, in spite of Gladys' resolute efforts to keep her awake, fell fast asleep, curled up in the corner, with her mother's feet in her lap. And so Owen and Gladys were _tete-a-tete_.

The November day was drawing to a close, and it was dull and dark.

Gladys fancied Owen was asleep, and was thinking how very much more cheerful she felt in the morning than she did at that moment; and all because Owen said he was going to be married. She was trying to remember the great blessings she had lately experienced, and that she ought to be thinking of Netta instead of her brother.

At last, Owen started up, and said,--

'Gladys, do you like coming back to Glanyravon?'

'Dearly, sir, if you like to have me.'

'Now, Gladys, that is too absurd! You know I have wanted to have you all these years.'

'I didn't mean that, Mr Owen.'

'Gladys, tell me why that old Jones kissed you.'

'I--I--don't know. Because--because he is fond of me, Mr Owen.'

'That is no reason, Miss Gladys. If it was, somebody else would kiss you, too. Now I have an opportunity, I must ask you a few more questions. I beg you to understand that old Jones, who is so fond of you, put you under my especial care.'

'Oh, Mr Owen!'

'Oh, Mrs Snow! Now, tell me why you let that cunning man of the world, Colonel Vaughan, give you ten shillings? This has been on my mind for six or seven years, and I have never had an opportunity of getting it off before. You know if you won't have me for a lover, you may for a brother.'

'Colonel Vaughan offered me the money, Mr Owen, and I returned it to him. Who could have told you of that?'

'The boy who saw him give you some money, and picked up the half-sovereign you dropped.'

'He gave me money for poor Mr Lloyd, who was ill, and offered me the half-sovereign for myself, which I refused.'

'Why did you refuse it.'

'Because I did not want it, and because he had no right to offer it me.'

'Bravo, Gladys! You are a capital girl!'

'And yet, Mr Owen, you think all sorts of unkind things of me when I am absent. For six years!'

'How can I help it, Gladys? You know that I love you better than my life, and yet you won't care one straw for me.'

'Oh! Mr Owen.'

'I can tell you it is no trifling mark of constancy, for a wandering fellow like me to stick to farming, and doing the dutiful son all these years. I should have been off to sea again long ago but for you, and--'

'And the father and mother, Mr Owen.'

'Well, yes, to a certain extent. But you always answer every question but one like a pure, straightforward young woman, as you are. Why won't you tell me the reason you have for hating me so?'

'I don't hate you, Mr Owen.'

'It must be either love or hate. You don't love me. Do you love any one else?'

'No.'

'Have you a heart to give?'

'Ye--no.'

'Which do you mean?'

'I cannot tell you, indeed I cannot!'

'Oh! Gladys, if you knew the pain! Why will you not make me happy, or at least give me a sensible reason?'

'I--I--promised--oh, Mr Owen.'

'Dear Gladys, what? I will never betray you, and will always be a friend, a brother. Who have you promised? Not to marry, not to love--'

'Your father, Mr Owen. I--I--promised never--to--without his consent.'

Fortunately it was dusk, and the curtain between the double carriage was drawn, and Netta and Minette were, apparently at least, fast asleep, so no one saw Owen jump up from his seat with a kind of bound, seize Gladys' hand, try to look into her face, and finally sit down again, retaining possession of the said hand across the elbow of the carriage.

'Do you mean, Gladys, that you promised never to marry me without my father's consent?'

'Yes.'

'Never to love me without his consent?'

'No.'

'That you don't hate me?'

'No.'

'That if I got his consent you would make me the happiest man in the world?'