l be the grandest man in the
county.'

What Netta had heard rumoured came to pass in due time, Mr Howel
Jenkins did come from London, and established himself in the best hotel
of his native town, throwing out hints as to the probability of his
taking a certain beautiful park in the neighbourhood. He was soon
supplied with the best horses, dogs, and general appointments of any man
in the county; and being really clever, handsome, and sufficiently
gentleman like, had made his way into society that had hitherto been
closed to him. Like Prince Hal, he eschewed most of his former
companions and appeared to be beginning life anew, in a new world. The
country rang with rumours of his enormous wealth, which, considerable as
it was, report nearly doubled. Indeed he himself scarcely knew what he
was worth, as he was continually finding memorandums of moneys out at
high interest, of which his father had not chosen to speak to Rowland,
but which his carefully secreted books and papers proved, as well as the
knowledge of Mr Rice Rice, who had been his attorney.

In the course of the autumn the Irish girl was quite convalescent and,
although not strong, had recovered from the fever, and was regaining
some degree of health. As she was such a clever sempstress, even Netta
did not object to a proposal made by Mrs Prothero, that she should
remain as a work-girl, at least until Owen's wardrobe was in a decent
condition; and she was accordingly installed in a small room, half
lumber-room, half work-room, as shirt-maker in ordinary to the son and
heir. He was restored to his own bedroom, and, together, with his father
kept at a distance from the bone of contention.

However, adverse elements cannot always be kept apart, and one day when
Mrs Prothero was sitting stitching wrist-bands with Gladys, her better
half made his appearance suddenly in the room.

'Mother, I have been hunting you out all over the house,' he exclaimed?
'I have torn the sleeve of my coat from top to bottom in that confounded
hedge.'

As he took off his coat and displayed the tear, he perceived Gladys, who
had risen from her work, and curtseyed very timidly and profoundly. Mr
Prothero had almost forgotten the Irish beggar, and certainly did not
suppose the tidy-looking, pale, tall girl before him to be her.

'Oh, young 'ooman, I daresay you can do this job for me. You've got a
new manty-maker, mother; where's Jane Morris, name o' goodness?'

'We're only making sh