Gladys, the Reaper. Anne Beale
trifled with. If you wish to be 'my lady,' take Sir Hugh, if he will have you; but I go halves with nobody. Now is the time to resolve; I shall never ask you again; and whatever your opinion may be upon the subject, I consider that I do you as great honour in asking you to be my wife, as if there were fifty Sir Hughs at your feet.'
It was now Netta's time to pout and look cross. She generally did before her private interviews with her cousin ended. Their quick tempers were sure to inflame each other.
'I am sure I don't care whether you ask me again or not. It is not such a great favour on your part.'
'Very well; then "your ladyship" has probably decided in favour of this,' and Howel made a face to represent Sir Hugh swelling his cheeks to their utmost extent. Netta tried to smother a laugh.
'I am sure he is quite as good looking as you are, with your cross face. You are enough to frighten one out of one's wits.'
'If you had any, Miss Netta. But come, this is absurd. Is it to be Sir Hugh in perspective, or cousin Howel at once?'
Netta was still pouting, fidgeting with her parasol, and restlessly pushing her foot through the grass and flowers, when they were startled by a voice crying—
'Is that you, Netta?'
Both looked up in affright, and, to their extreme disgust, perceived their very sedate brother and cousin, Rowland, threading his way down the opposite side of the ravine. He was soon at the bottom, and in less than a minute had crossed from stone to stone over the brook, and stood by the side of his sister.
'Netta, what can you be doing here?' he asked abruptly.
'I came for a walk,' was the somewhat hesitating reply.
'Then, perhaps, you will have no objection to walk home with me,' said Rowland, looking reproachfully at Howel. He met a defiant glance in return.
'Howel,' he said, 'I do not think my father would approve of Netta's meeting you here, and, I therefore, must beg to break up an interview that had been better avoided.'
'Whatever right your father may have, sir, to prevent my seeing your sister, at any rate you have none,' was Howel's indignant reply.
'Then I shall take a brother's right, and in the absence of my father, assume his place. Netta, you know you are doing wrong; come with me.'
Netta hesitated, but her brother's manner was authoritative, and she felt that she dared not disobey.
'I tell you what it is, Rowland, you have always assumed a tone with me that I neither can nor will brook,' passionately exclaimed Howel.' I beg you to account for your conduct, and to understand that I will have either an apology or satisfaction for your ungentlemanly proceedings.'
'I never apologise when I have done no wrong; and as for satisfaction, as you understand it, I have not the power of making it. I will not desecrate the Sabbath by an unseemly quarrel amidst the most beautiful works of creation, nor offend my sister's ear by recrimination. If you have any real regard for her, you will allow her to go home quietly with me, and remember that we are all relations, and ought to be friends.'
'Friends we can never be. The only friend I have in your family is Owen, except, perhaps, Netta, who is turned by one and the other of you, like a weathercock by the winds.'
'I beg your pardon, cousin Howel,' began Netta.
'We have had enough of this,' said Rowland calmly. 'If you choose to come and see us as a relation, in a straightforward manner, Howel, we should be glad to see you, but underhand ways are equally disagreeable to us all.'
'How remarkably condescending!' said Howel with a sneer. 'But I will not waste time with a canting, Methodist parson like you. I wish you as many converts as you desire, but not myself amongst them. Remember, Netta! Good bye. I suppose your most excellent brother will allow us to shake hands.'
Netta held out her hand, and as Howel shook it, he again repeated the word 'remember.' Rowland advanced a pace or two, and partly extended his hand. Howel turned abruptly away, and with a contemptuous glance, merely said, 'Good day to you,' The brother and sister took an opposite course to his, and had to cross the brook, whilst he pushed his way through the briers that had impeded Netta's path. He turned and watched them as they stepped from stone to stone, and finally ascended the ravine. Netta looked round, and he kissed his hand to her, to which she responded by nodding her head; but Rowland neither turned to the right nor left.
'Meddling coxcomb!' he exclaimed, 'what is there in him that commands the attention and respect that I fail to obtain with ten times his talents?'
He stood for a few minutes musing, whilst the music of the waterfall insensibly soothed his irritated mind.
'Why should I care for Netta, who could marry any one I like?' were his thoughts. 'I suppose because she really loves me, and because they all oppose me. Well, supposing I do turn over a new leaf, and spend the gold my father got so usuriously, in doing good! That would be making a use of a miser's money, rarely, if ever, made before? and might be worth the trial, if only to work a new problem, whether ill-gotten wealth could conduce to moral health. I should like to out-Herod that puppy Rowland, and make a saint of myself out of a sinner. That would be working out two problems at once. I wonder whether Netta will help me to solve them?'
Netta, meanwhile, was receiving a very severe lecture from her brother, to which she did not condescend to reply, until he spoke of what his father would say to her meeting Howel clandestinely,
'I suppose you are not going to be cross enough to tell father,' said Netta'
'I shall certainly think it my duty to tell him,' was the reply.
'Then you are an unkind, unfeeling, unnatural brother,' cried Netta, bursting into tears.
'Will you promise not to meet Howel again without my father or mother's consent?' asked Rowland, relenting,
'I won't promise anything? and Howel is a thousand times nicer and kinder than you are. You have no feeling for any one. I wish Owen were at home.'
'Netta, you are very unjust? you know I only wish your good.'
'And I suppose you wish Howel's good, too. Just as his father is dead, and he meaning to be good, and only wishing to see me before he goes to London, and having plenty of money to do what he likes, and intending to pay his debts with it, and— and—'
Here sobs and tears came to the rescue of the voluble words that would soon have worn themselves out—for Netta had no great flow of language.
Rowland was perplexed. He was fond of his sister? he wished Howel well? he did not know whether it would be best to let them marry or not. If they were prevented, they would either take French leave, or hate all their relations? and if they married they would not be happy, he was sure. But he knew it was wrong to deceive his parents. In this uncertain state of mind they reached home, through, the little hawthorn lane before described. Mrs. Prothero was on the look out for them, she having returned from chapel and missed them.
Netta ran past her mother into the house, without replying to her question concerning her headache, and Rowland at once related to his mother what he had seen of Howel and Netta's private interview, which that good lady was very much distressed to hear.
CHAPTER IX.
THE IRISH BEGGAR.
Glanyravon farm was anything but a quiet home during the ensuing week. Mrs. Prothero thought it right to inform her husband of what had passed; and he blustered and raged even more than he had ever done about the Irish beggars. Everybody thought proper to try to convert Netta, but none of them knew the