Gladys, the Reaper. Anne Beale
obstinacy of her character, and all signally failed. Even Uncle and Aunt Jonathan had their turn, and drove over on purpose to canvass the matter; but as the elders disagreed upon the various points at issue, it was no wonder that all remained much as it was before the unfortunate meeting we have mentioned.
'For my part,' said Mrs. Jonathan Prothero, when all were assembled, except Netta, in family conclave, 'I cannot see so much against the young man after all. Such a fortune as his is not to be met with every day, and I must say he is very handsome and clever.'
Here we must remark that this lady's sentiments had undergone a change, since it had been rumoured that Howel was worth more than a hundred thousand pounds.
'I tell you what it is, ma'am,' roared the farmer, 'if he were worth his weight in gold, he 'ouldn't be a good match for any prudent 'ooman. To my certain knowledge he drinks and gambles, and he shall never have my consent to marry Netta so long as I live, and you may tell him so.'
'I do not know enough of him, sir, to have any communication of the kind with him,' said Mrs. Jonathan, stiffly.
'My dear,' interposed mild Mrs. Prothero, 'if he gets steady, and settles down, it might be better to let them marry, than to make them miserable for life.'
'Study! miserable! mother, you're a—I beg your pardon, but when Howel's study, I'll turn to smoking cigars. Why, the very night of his father's funeral he was half drunk, instead of being decent for once.'
'He couldn't care much for his father, my dear; you must make allowances.'
'An odd man, that Griff, brother David,' said Mr. Jonathan Prothero, as if just awaking from a dream. 'Do you remember when we were lads together, and used to go up to Garn Goch looking for treasures? I knew, even then, that it was an old British encampment, and began to speculate upon its date, and so on; you used to hunt rabbits, and provoke me by overturning the walls, but Griff got it into his head that there was money buried somewhere, and never ceased digging for it. At last he found an old coin of very ancient date, and seeing that I wished to have it, he bargained with me, until he got all the money I had for it. Of course the coin was worth any money, and satisfactorily proves that Garn Goch was an old British encampment at the time of the invasion of the Romans.'
'Well, brother, you are by the head! That old coin is nothing but a well-used sixpence.'
'I have every reason to believe, and I am supported in my opinion by various antiquaries, that it bears the inscription either of Cunobelin or Caractacus. There is a decided C, and we are told that money was coined in Britain in the time of Cunobelin.'
'And how on earth did he get up to Garn Goch?'
'Why, you know that Caractacus commanded the Silures, or people of South Wales, against the Romans, and that they held out bravely, I have no shadow of doubt that Garn Goch was one of their strongholds.'
'But what can Garn Goch have to do with Netta and Howel? Brother, I always shall say you are by the head with your antiquities.'
'Well, I think you had better let them marry, I really do. It's no good opposing young people, when they will have their own way at last.'
'I sha'n't send for you to consult with again. Mother, go and bring Netta here, and let us see what she has to say for herself.'
'My dear Davy, would it not be better to speak to her privately?'
'Not a bit. I can't say a word when I am alone with her, but I could give her a bit of my mind when you are all present. Why don't you go, and not stand looking as if you was as much by the head as brother Jo.'
Poor Mrs. Prothero perceived that her husband was determined to have Netta publicly reprimanded, so, much against her will, she left the room. Rowland was preparing to follow, not liking the prospect of a scene, when his father peremptorily called him back.
'Stay you, sir. If you was the better for going to Oxford, you'd try to teach your sister how to behave, instead of cutting off the moment you're wanted.'
'I really do not think, father, that a public reproof is likely to make Netta change her mind. You would do better to talk quietly to her.'
Here Mrs. Prothero returned, followed by Netta, looking as sulky as she possibly could, and with the traces of tears on her face. There was an awkward silence for a few seconds, during which both Mr. Prothero and Netta were getting redder and redder, and their inner man correspondingly choleric. At last the father began the strife.
'Now, I say, Miss Netta,' there was a pause for a few minutes. 'Do you hear, miss?'
'Yes, father, I hear very well,' said Netta, and muttered to herself in continuation, 'who could help it?'
'You hear very well—I should think so. You hear a good deal you've no business to listen to. Do you mean to give up that scamp Howel?'
No reply.
'Now it's no use for you to stand there and say nothing, for an answer I will have.'
'I don't think he's a scamp,' said Netta boldly.
Poor Mrs. Prothero trembled, and looked imploringly at Netta.
'My dear Netta, you should not contradict your father,' said Mrs. Jonathan, with a severe look.
'You don't think he's a scamp. Then you mean to have him, I suppose?' said Mr. Prothero.
'I didn't say that, father. But I don't see why I may not speak to my own cousin.'
Every one was surprised at Netta's answers. Like her father, she could talk better before numbers. She had done nothing but cry when her mother had reasoned with her.
'Very well, miss. All I can say is, that if you meet him again I'll—I'll—I'll—' the good farmer did not know what he would do. He was not prepared to say.
'He is gone to London, father,'
'Will you promise not to meet him any more, you good-for-nothing girl, you? You most disobedient daughter!'
Again Netta was silent.
'Will you promise your father, Netta,' said Mrs. Prothero, gently, 'not to meet Howel again, or have anything to say to him, without his consent?'
Still Netta was silent.
'He may reform, you know,' suggested Mrs. Jonathan, 'and then you may be allowed to marry,'
'No chance of that,' roared Mr. Prothero, advancing towards Netta, taking her by the arm, and looking as if a few more of her rejoinders would bring her a good shaking. 'Do you mean to promise, miss?'
'Father, you're hurting me,' said Netta petulantly. 'You needn't pinch me so.'
Mr. Prothero relaxed his hold. He doated on this obstinate, pretty, wilful child of his—the only girl, and whose temper was the very facsimile of his own.
'It's you're hurting me most, Netta, by rushing into certain misery. Will you promise?'
Again he took hold of the arm.
'One would think you were a Papist, father, and this the Inquisition,' said Netta, growing learned under the torture of her father's grasp,
'Well said, Netta,' broke in Mr. Jonathan, aroused by any allusion to any subject out of the present. 'A cruel court that perhaps more properly called Jesuitical than Papistical.'
Mr. Prothero gave Netta a slight shake, which shook more passion into both of them, and frightened Mrs. Prothero.
'Once for all, Netta, will you promise to give up that scamp of a cousin of yours, Howel Jenkins?' roared the father.
'I won't promise anything at all,' replied Netta doggedly; and freeing herself from her father, she ran to her uncle as if for protection.
'You won't!' said Mr. Prothero, pursuing her, 'then I tell you what it is. The moment you are known to keep company with him, you may find some other home than this; and if you determine to marry him, you shall be no