ain poor Netta was the object of every one's thoughts, Gladys forgot
herself, and Owen his joy, to cheer and comfort her.

It was in private that Mrs Prothero poured out her feelings to Gladys,
and assured her of her unbounded satisfaction in the prospect of such a
daughter. It was also in private that Netta solemnly gave her child into
Gladys' care. She said,--

'If I die, Gladys, you are to be her mother. You are to bring her up;
she is never to leave you. If Howel comes back, say to him this was my
wish. But I will write it for him. You must teach her to love her
father, and to pray for him; and when she is old enough to be firm in
her duty, to go to him if he wishes it. But never let Aunt 'Lizbeth have
her--never. I _must_ see Aunt 'Lizbeth, I must tell her my wishes
myself; you must talk to her, Gladys; she must not have my child if I
die.'

Owen and Minette went together to see poor Mrs Griffey. They
found her much altered. Owen could scarcely recognise the brisk,
handsomely-dressed Aunt 'Lizbeth who came to announce her son's gay
wedding to Mrs Prothero, in that son's mother, as stricken by his crime.
Moreover, there was a very strong smell of spirits in the room, and Owen
perceived a bottle and glass, that had been hastily put aside, under a
table in the corner.

Mrs Jenkins cried a great deal when she saw Minette, and Owen was soon
very sorry that he had brought the child. However he told her to go to a
small inner room, the window of which looked into the street, and her
attention was soon quite absorbed. Her grandmother was in a maudlin
condition, out of which, under any other circumstances, Owen would have
extracted mirth, but now he only felt anger and sorrow.

'Have you heard anything of Howel, Aunt 'Lizbeth?' he asked.

'Oh, _annwyl_! No. Mr Rice Rice is telling me there is a 'ditement
brought against him for forgery, and now they can be taking him
anywhere, and bringing him to trial as soon as they do find him.
Forgery! name o' goodness, why 'ould he be forging, as I do say to every
one, and his own mother as 'ould be giving him thousands of pounds. My
Howels! Ach a fi! for sham to them! But he 'ont be found guilty, if they
do tak him. Owen, bach! it was killing me, 'deet to goodness it was,'

'Don't cry, Aunt 'Lizbeth, I wanted to speak to you about Netta.'

'Oh seure! she 'ont come to see her husband's mother! and I don't be
cheusing to be turned out of doors again.'

'She is very ill, aunt.