r tell him so, I ain't going to do it; he's your
friend, and if he admires me, I think you ought to be proud of it.'

'You did nothing but flirt and giggle with him all the evening. What
with you on one side and my mother on the other, I thought I must have
left the room.'

'Giggle, indeed; I don't know what you mean, sir; you never eused to say
I giggled.'

'Can't you say _used_, and not _eused_, you will never cease to be
provincial,'

'Other folks are provincial, I think, besides me. If you said your own
mother was provincial, it 'ould be true enough.'

'There again! if you are your own natural self, you leave out all your
_w's_ directly; I wish you would be careful, Netta.'

'Well, so do the French. I declare I won't speak again to-night, that I
won't, you cross, unnatural, unfeeling fellow; and all because you're
jealous of Owen. Madame Duvet says he's the handsomest man she ever saw,
and that his beard is enough to win any woman's heart.'

'You had better hold your tongue, I think,' said Howel, stifling a laugh
at the idea of Owen's irresistible beard; 'you never say a word of
sense.'

'And you never say a kind word,' said Netta, breaking down at that last
attack, and beginning to cry.

'Now don't blubber, and let all the house hear you.'

'I wonder whether leaving out a _w_ is half as vulgar as to tell one's
wife not to blubber. But I won't speak to you again. I wish I hadn't
married you, I do.'

'I wish to heaven you hadn't.'

At this Netta began to sob very much, and Howel softened somewhat, but
not sufficiently to make any excuse for his conduct; and Netta went to
bed, proud, indignant, and unhappy, and wishing herself back again at
Glanyravon.

The next morning, Owen remarked that Netta did not speak to Howel at
all, and that she was very reserved and strange in her manner to Captain
Dancy. The captain, however, took no notice of the change, but whilst he
seemed to converse more than usual with Miss Simpson, anticipated all
Netta's wants and wishes with most insinuating tact. Netta, with her
changing colour, and half-pettish, half-shy manner, was still more
attractive than Netta affected and silly. Owen thought that Howel felt
this, for he went behind her chair, and put his hand on her shoulder,
whilst he asked for some more sugar in his tea. Netta's lips pouted, but
her eyes brightened as she said in a half whisper, 'You're sweeter than
you were, Howel.'

Howel excused the common-place all