Part 80 (1/2)

When they had left the house, and reached Rowland's lodging, Owen said, his usually joyful face clouded by an expression of sorrow and pain,--

'Curse that fellow! I say, Rowland, I can't help it, it breaks my heart to see Netta as she is; and she will kill mother. As to father, there is no getting a civil word from him ever since the news came.'

'I suppose every one knows it?' said Rowland.

'Of course Aunt 'Lizbeth has employed Mr Rice Rice and a counsel for that scoundrel, to do what they can when the case is tried. You know they have indicted him, and, present or absent, it is to come on at the next a.s.sizes. Then, if they prove him guilty, or make out a case against him, or whatever they call it, he will be brought to trial as soon as they can catch him.'

'Sir Samuel Spendall and Sir Horatio Simpson are furious against him, I hear,' said Rowland.

'No wonder; I foresaw something bad when I was at Abertewey. But what of that rascal, Deep?'

'They can make nothing of him; he is already released, and if he knows anything of Howel he has not let it out.'

'I can't help liking poor Aunt 'Lizbeth; she says she will spend every farthing she has for Howel, and when I tell her to remember her old age and keep her money, all I get is, ”What will I do if my Howel is ruined?

What will I care for money if he is gone?” It is pretty well known that he has forged her name for thousands of pounds, but she won't own it, and swears to all his signatures as her own, I verily believe, with her eyes shut.'

'Does father hear all these things?'

'n.o.body dares to speak to him. He opens out to me with a vengeance, and wants a little of your preaching to refine his language. But who can wonder? I am ashamed to show my nose myself. The first bit of pleasure I have had since it began was seeing Gladys look so well and happy this morning. What has happened to her? Is she going to be married? for nothing else have changed a girl's face from November to June. At the same time, she might have a little more feeling for us than to look her best when we are at our worst. Poor Netta! I'm sure she won't live. I've wished myself at sea nearly every day for the last six years, and I'm sure I wish myself there now.'

'My good fellow,' said Rowland, 'don't say that; what should any of us do without you? You are the only stay of our parents at home, and will be poor Netta's last comfort.'

'If I were sure I were of any use I wouldn't mind; but when I see Gladys, or think of her, the truth is I get savage. Perhaps it is a proper punishment for pretending to stay at home on father and mother's account, when it was really on hers. But never mind; I suppose one girl's really as good as another. Will you come down at Christmas, Rowland?'

'I wish I could; but our rector is so ill that there is no chance of his being able to leave Nice this winter, and Jones and I have all the duty.

The last account was so bad that Mr Wenlock fears, if he returns at all, it will be only to die.'

We will not follow the brothers further in their conversation; they made the most of the few hours they were together, and after a short night's rest, arose early, breakfasted, and went to fetch Netta.

The sight of her favourite brother, and the prospect of returning home had roused her, and she seemed more herself than she had been since Howel's letter. Gladys was as bright and busy as a queen-bee, and Minette was all tears and smiles.

There were a great many 'last words' to be said, and as all the preparations had been made the previous day, there was plenty of time to say them.

'I don't know how to thank you,' said poor Netta to Mrs Jones and Miss Gwynne, as they were putting on her last warm cloak. The tears were streaming down her pale cheeks, and her hand, as usual, was on her heart.

Mrs Jones kissed her, and Miss Gwynne said cheerfully, 'I shall see you soon, Netta, and I want Mrs Jones to come to Glanyravon with me, so it will not be a long parting.'

'You have been very good to my child and me,--G.o.d will bless you!'

sobbed Netta.

'I will come again, Mr Jones, and see you, and Mrs Jones, and the little children,' said Minette, who was hugging Mr Jones warmly.

He took her up in his arms, kissed her, and put her into the cab next her mother, who had been placed therein by Rowland.

Gladys' farewells were the last.

'That's what I call something like it, Rowly,' said Owen tapping his brother's shoulder, as he watched Mr and Mrs Jones alternately give Gladys a most affectionate embrace.

'But why does the old parson hug her so? He shouldn't do that if I were Mrs Jones, or if she were Mrs--'