turf. Also to his horse, Campaigner as being one of those entered
for the Ascot races.

Then he went very cautiously to work to see whether he could not induce
Owen to bet; but he, holding up again his nearly empty purse, laughed
his merry laugh, and said,--

'I am not to be caught, Mr Deep. I hate horse-racing, and never laid a
wager of any kind in my life. That is the only redeeming point in my
character. Wild enough I have been, and roving all my life, but I never
gambled. Excuse me now, as I must go and see my sister.'

He went accordingly to Netta's room, and after knocking at the door,
and hearing that she was still in bed, entered unceremoniously. He was
at once struck with the difference between the Netta of the farm, in her
little muslin night-cap, that he had often fairly pulled off, to get her
to promise to leave the pretty white-curtained bed, and the lady of
Abertewey, in lace and fine linen, reclining beneath satin drapery, in a
room furnished most luxuriously.

'Well, Netta, I have you alone at last; and now, if your head is not
very bad, we will have a regular old-fashioned gossip,' said Owen,
stooping to kiss the pretty flushed face of the little sister he dearly
loved, despite her follies.

'Did you stop at home for me, Owen? How very kind! I don't think any one
else would,' said Netta.

'Oh, yes, many others would if it were necessary; but I wanted to have
you all to myself. Now I know you have been longing to ask me a hundred
questions, but have never got beyond "How are they all at home?" yet.'

Netta blushed, and stammered out, as an apology, that she had never been
at leisure one minute all the week.

By degrees she began to talk of home and her parents, and Owen was glad
to find that as she did so she returned to her old, natural self. He
told her everything that had happened at Glanyravon since she left it,
save and except what related to Gladys. He never even mentioned her
name.

Netta had various ebullitions of temper during their conversation and
declared herself greatly aggrieved by her father's conduct.

'But it is just as well,' she said, 'for our positions are so different
that we should never have got on comfortably. Howel is determined never
to make up with father.'

'I am afraid he is not likely to have the option,' said Owen, gravely.
'But you should write and beg his pardon, Netta; you know you acted
directly contrary to his wishes.'

'I think I would write, Owen, but