our back upon me?'

'Give you the hand of friendship and brotherhood.'

'Thank you; and don't let them quite desert my mother. Bad as she is, I
am worse, and I have ruined her; a worse thing that than getting a
little money out of those turf-dupes and idiots, though hers was
ill-gotten wealth.'

'We will take care of your mother amongst us as well as we can. My
mother never forsakes an old friend.'

'Give my love to her; she was kind to me and to my child. All the rest
have deserted me, and wished me hanged. But I have to thank you, who
always despised me, for being here now, and for your anxiety about me.
Rowland, you are a better fellow than I thought you, and you have helped
to rid me of some of those spectres that haunted me night and day. You
must go! I know it. Alone! alone! with this crew! Is this Heaven's law
or man's? and I was not made for this. I shall destroy myself--I must--I
will. Good-bye! oh Rowland! cousin! brother! remember me, for God's sake
and for hers!'

The hands of the minister of the Gospel and the felon were clasped for
a few seconds, as if they could never unlink, and then, with a heavy
groan, Howel sank down upon some timber that was near him, and covered
his face with his hands. Thick tears filled Rowland's eyes as he stooped
over his wretched cousin, and again whispered, 'God bless you, cousin
Howel, God bless you.'

And so they parted.

CHAPTER LIII.

GLADYS REAPING HER FRUITS.

Our story began at Glanyravon, in the cheery month of June, and at
Glanyravon, in the same cheery month, we will end it.

I must beg my readers to pass over in their imaginations one
twelvemonth, of which I do not mean to say anything, and to accompany me
to the gate at Glanyravon Farm, where they first made acquaintance with
Mrs Prothero and Gladys. A hasty glance will suffice to show that all is
much the same at this said gate as it was ten years ago, save and except
that the extraneous accompaniments are changed. Instead of a group of
Irish beggars and a dying girl, it is surrounded by a party of
well-dressed peasants in high, smooth hats and striped flannel gowns.
Moreover, it is surrounded by an arch of evergreens and flowers, of most
tasteful form and beautiful colour.

We will not linger here at present, but pursue our way along the road.
We meet more peasants, in holiday costume, talking and laughing
together, with Miss Gwynne's school children in their scarlet cloak and
best froc