Gladys, the Reaper Part 23

CHAPTER XIII.

THE WIDOW.

'Whose grand groom is that, half afraid to ride through the yard?' asked Mr Prothero, as he and his son Owen were standing by the big wheat-mow, awaiting the arrival of a load of corn.

'I'll go and see what he wants,' said Owen, and off he went.

He returned, bearing a note for his father.

'He says he is Mr Griffith Jenkins's groom, and waits for an answer.

Howel doesn't do the thing by halves anyhow.'

'Mr Griffith Jackanapes!' said the farmer, breaking the seal of the note hastily, and reading it.

Owen watched his countenance a.s.sume an angry expression, and then heard him utter a very broad Welsh oath.

'Tell that feller there's no answer,' said Mr Prothero.

'What is it about father? you had better let mother see it first.'

'The impudent young a.s.s! does he think I am to be taken in by all that gold and plush? He shall never have my consent, and you may tell him so, Owen.'

'Come into the house a minute, father, and let us see the note.'

They went into the house, the farmer giving an indignant grunt at the groom as he pa.s.sed.

'Mother, come here!' he roared as he entered the parlour, followed by Owen.

The obedient wife left her kitchen and went to her husband.

'Read you it out loud, Owen.'

Owen read.

'SIR,--Being in a position to marry, and to marry any lady in the county, I think you need not be surprised at my now aspiring to the hand of your daughter, to whom I have been many years attached. I beg, therefore, to say that my object in writing to you is, to ask your permission to pay my addresses to her, and to make her my wife. My attorney will see to any arrangements you may require as regards settlements, which are matters of no importance to me,--I remain, sir, your obedient servant,

'HOWEL GRIFFITH JENKINS.'

'The impudent scoundrel!' said Mr Prothero.

'Well, father, I don't see--' began Owen.

'You don't see, sir, I daresay you don't. Wasn't he as near ruining you as possible! Didn't he teach you to gamble, and fleece you, and lead you into all kinds of mischief? Didn't I forbid him the house for it?

Didn't he rob his own father, and make his mother miserable? Didn't he drink and keep company with the worst profligates of the country? Didn't he as good as rob me, sir, out of a ten-pound note when he was a bit of a boy, and when I found it out, called it a lark? Do you think a great fortune will all of a sudden change such a chap as that into an honest man? No, what's ill got is ill spent, and old Giffrey Jenkins's money 'ill never turn to good account. He that grinds the poor, and goes against scripture as a usurer, 'ill never find his son do well. Howel shall never have my consent to marry Netta, and there's an end of it.'

'But suppose they are determined,' said Mrs Prothero.

'Then I'll wash my hands of 'em for ever, and vow Netta's no girl of mine. Go you, Owen, and send off that fine yellar-band, sent to astonish me, and tell him I'll have nothing to do with his master nor him.'

'But, father, you must write!'

'Write! not I: but stop, I'll write. Bring the paper. Haven't you got any with a fine gloss, and coloured?'

'Now, David, bach, if you would only consider a little. I am really afraid of the consequences.'

'Now, mother, my mind's made up, and you won't wheedle me in this matter. So, here's the pen and ink,'

Mr Prothero sat down and wrote the following reply to Howel's note:--

'HOWEL,--You have had my answer before now, and you may have it again. When I know you're out-and-out a changed man, I may think differently; but I don't know it yet, so you shall not have my consent to marry Netta. One hundred pounds of steadiness and honesty is worth a hundred thousand pounds of gold. I wish you well, but if you was king of England you shouldn't have my girl as you are now.'--Yours to command, 'DAVID PROTHERO,'

'There, mother, there's my mind,' said Mr Prothero, giving the note to his wife.

'Well, David, I believe you are right, only Netta is so determined!'

'Determined, is she! Then I'll lock her up. Take that to yon yellar-band, Owen.'

Owen took the note to the servant

'Tell your master that I am coming to see him this evening,' he said, and soliloquised thus when the man was gone. 'Howel is a good fellow, I believe, only a little extravagant and gay. I must tell him not to be down-hearted about Netta. Why, the girl isn't worth such a bother? I never saw one that was yet. It would take a great deal of time and trouble to work me up into that kind of thing--and at least a dozen girls. Netta's very pretty, to be sure, but she has a will of her own, and so has Howel. I am sure they would soon fight. As to father, he is as obstinate as a mule. And Howel with such a mint of money! But I like father's pride, and I must say I reel proud of him for it. I would never give in just because a man has suddenly got a fortune.'

When Owen had arrived at this conclusion, he perceived Netta coming towards him.

'What did that servant want, Owen?' she asked when she came quite near?

'and what were those two notes about?'

'I dare say you know, Miss Netta. It is all over with you for this present. Howel has popped the question, and father has refused him.'

If Owen had ever been really in love, he would have spoken less abruptly on such a delicate subject, as he found, when he saw Netta turn pale, then red, then burst into tears and run away from him into the house.

He followed her, somewhat distressed, to the door of her bedroom. He knocked gently, but received no answer.

'Netta, let me in, I have something to say to you,'

No reply, but a pa.s.sionate sobbing audible.

'Netta, dear Netta, I am so sorry for you. Let me in.'

He tried the door, but it was locked.

'Netta, if you don't let me in I'll go and fetch mother directly. One, two, three, and, now, open the door, I'm going. One, two, three, and away!'

He walked down the pa.s.sage, and heard the door opened behind him.

'Owen, come here, I will let you in,'