Part 84 (1/2)

'Then go you and tell the girl, you may have her, as far as I am concerned,' said Mr Prothero.

'Indeed, father!' said Owen doubtfully.

'Do you want me to swear, sir? Upon my deed, then, you may marry the girl. I have but one objection, and that's the way she came here. The girl's a good girl, and I like her well enough. Now, p'r'aps you 'ont go to sea.'

'Decidedly not; I'm a steady land-lubber for my life: thank you, father.

Shake hands upon it! You won't repent. Kiss me, Netta! You have done it, I know, and you shall dance at the wedding. Now, I'll go and tell Gladys.'

Owen and his father shook hands until their arms ached. Then the brother and sister kissed one another, and, with a sort of greyhound leap, or caper, Owen started off in search of Gladys.

'Father, you will never repent it. Thank you--a thousand times,' said Netta, covering her face with her hands, and bursting into tears.

The worthy farmer cried with her, and thus the father and daughter's love returned and increased.

CHAPTER XLV.

THE BETROTHED.

Owen found Gladys in the dairy with his mother and Minette. She had a candle in one hand, lighting Mrs Prothero, whilst she was looking at the fresh milk just put into the pans; Minette held the other.

'All right, Gladys! all right! Father has consented!' cried Owen, literally tumbling down the pa.s.sage between the milk-pans.

Down went a splendid tin of milk right over Minette. Owen didn't mind.

His arm was round Gladys' waist, and the candle stowed away somewhere, before any one knew what he was about. Mother and niece saw the long, fervent embrace to which Gladys yielded; but Owen didn't mind that. If all the servants, domestic and otherwise, had been there, he wouldn't have cared.

'Oh, Mr Owen!' said Gladys.

'Oh, Mrs. Owen,' said he.

'Mother, she is mine and yours now for ever!' he continued, releasing Gladys somewhat from his firm clasp. 'Father has given her to me. I needn't ask you. We will live all together. I will herd the cows, and she shall milk them.'

'Come into the kitchen, Owen,' said Mrs Prothero, utterly astonished.

'Uncle, you have wet me all over,' sighed Minette.

'Never mind. Come by the fire and dry yourself.'

They all went into the kitchen, which was empty. There, by the blazing wood fire, Owen kissed Gladys and his mother and Minette, and Mrs Prothero kissed Gladys; and the women cried and Owen laughed. It was a long time before he could explain the real state of the case.

'You are quite sure you love me, Gladys? It is not _grat.i.tude_, but love!' said Owen, looking into the pure, l.u.s.trous 'violets dropping dew,' that he had studied so long and so lovingly.

The answering glance and the quick blush were quite satisfactory.

'Then, will you come with me to father and Netta. We owe it all to her--poor dear Netta!'

'Please to wipe my frock first,' said Minette to her grandmother; 'and tell me if uncle is going to marry Gladys. I am so glad.'

The frock was wiped, and Owen took the child up in his arms, and told her to love her new aunt better than ever.