ompanied her. It was then that poor Mr Prothero's
wrath and grief exploded. Left alone with his brother he vented both in
language which, as Owen had expressed it, needed clerical revision. But
Mr Jonathan knew that it must have its course before exhortations could
take effect. He paced up and down the room pouring curses loud and deep
upon Howel, and bemoaning his unfortunate daughter. At last he sat down
and cried bitterly.

It was then that his brother drew near to comfort, and that Owen
returned to the room.

'So young, so pretty--our only girl! God only knows how I love her--to
come to die! Driven mad by that heartless villain--curse him--a
thousand--'

'Hush, brother! hush! You cannot alter the past. Home and a father's and
mother's love will soon bring her round, poor dear.'

'Do you think so? why, she looks like a corpse. No rose was redder when
she went away, when I kissed her the night before. And now! and now! I
say again, curse the man! I can't help it, brother,--I won't help it.'

'Come, father, let us hope the best, now we have her home again.'

Owen put his hand on his father's shoulder as he spoke, but there was no
comfort for that sorrowing parent. While he cursed Howel there, was much
self-reproach within him for long-harboured feelings of anger and
unforgiveness against his daughter. He even began, to think that if he
had been gentle and kind he might have saved her. The proud hearts of
parent and child were alike subdued by heavy sorrow.

The following day Netta was unable to leave her bed. Excitement and
fatigue had been too much for her. Dr Richards was sent for, who shook
his head, and ordered quiet and rest. Mrs Prothero and Gladys were with
her, and as she was continually sleeping, no one else was admitted. Mr
and Mrs Jonathan left early, after having made friends with Minette, who
confided to them that she liked them better than grandpapa and
grandmamma, because they were gentlefolks. She didn't know why there was
no carpet in the hall, and didn't like stones to her feet. She promised
to go and see them when her mamma was better. The worthy couple took to
her as they had done to her mother.

In a day or two Netta was much better and able to be brought downstairs.
Matters gradually settled into their regular course at the farm, and all
went on as usual. Mr Prothero spent every spare moment with Netta and
his grandchild, who soon forgot that 'grandfather,' as he insisted on
her calling h