han he had told
Miss Gwynne, what he knew of Howel and Netta.

He said that he had been to their house the previous day in the
afternoon, and had found it occupied by sheriffs' officers and
policemen, who were trying, in vain, to ascertain from the servants
where their master and mistress were. All that they knew was that their
master did not sleep in the house the previous night, and that their
mistress left it that morning. Rowland had waited until late at night,
but no further intelligence was gained.

He gleaned that Howel was accused of having forged cheques, at different
times, to a very large amount, in the names both of Sir Samuel Spendall
and Sir Horatio Simpson. The frauds had been discovered through a cheque
on the latter's bank, purporting to be written by him for five hundred
pounds, received by Howel a few weeks before. Sir Horatio Simpson having
gone himself to his bankers for some money, it was found that he had
overdrawn his account, and, upon examining his late cheques, he utterly
disclaimed that of Howel, and declared it forged. The result of this was
a general examination of his banking accounts for the last four years,
and the discovery of forgeries, by alteration of figures and forged
signatures, to the amount of some five or six thousand pounds.

At the same time Sir Samuel Spendall's attorneys found, from a rigid
examination of that baronet's affairs, that Howel's claim on him did not
amount to two-thirds of his demand, and that various signatures to
betting debts, and loans of money, etc., were forgeries.

In addition to this, Howel's own debts, both on the turf and to his
tradesmen, were enormous, and ignominy surrounded him on all sides.

Rowland groaned aloud as he told Gladys these horrible truths, and
Gladys had no words of comfort; all she could say was,--

'It is not poor Netta's fault; it is not yours, Mr Rowland, or that of
any one belonging to you.'

'But the shame, Gladys; you know my father, it will be his death.'

'Oh no, sir, he always expected something of the kind. I have often
heard him say so. If we could only find Mrs Jenkins and her child it
would not be so bad.'

Mr Jones came in, and Gladys left the room and went to Miss Gwynne.

Gladys has become the friend and confidential adviser of every member of
that small household; no one but herself considers her as a servant. She
acts as housekeeper for Mrs Jones, maid to Miss Gwynne, school teacher
and district visitor