'Well, father, I don't see—' began Owen.
'You don't see, sir, I daresay you don't. Wasn't he as near ruining you as possible! Didn't he teach you to gamble, and fleece you, and lead you into all kinds of mischief? Didn't I forbid him the house for it? Didn't he rob his own father, and make his mother miserable? Didn't he drink and keep company with the worst profligates of the country? Didn't he as good as rob me, sir, out of a ten-pound note when he was a bit of a boy, and when I found it out, called it a lark? Do you think a great fortune will all of a sudden change such a chap as that into an honest man? No, what's ill got is ill spent, and old Giffrey Jenkins's money 'ill never turn to good account. He that grinds the poor, and goes against scripture as a usurer, 'ill never find his son do well. Howel shall never have my consent to marry Netta, and there's an end of it.'
'But suppose they are determined,' said Mrs Prothero.
'Then I'll wash my hands of 'em for ever, and vow Netta's no girl of mine. Go you, Owen, and send off that fine yellar-band, sent to astonish me, and tell him I'll have nothing to do with his master nor him.'
'But, father, you must write!'
'Write! not I: but stop, I'll write. Bring the paper. Haven't you got any with a fine gloss, and coloured?'
'Now, David, bach, if you would only consider a little. I am really afraid of the consequences.'
'Now, mother, my mind's made up, and you won't wheedle me in this matter. So, here's the pen and ink,'
Mr Prothero sat down and wrote the following reply to Howel's note:—
'HOWEL,—You have had my answer before now, and you may have it again. When I know you're out-and-out a changed man, I may think differently; but I don't know it yet, so you shall not have my consent to marry Netta. One hundred pounds of steadiness and honesty is worth a hundred thousand pounds of gold. I wish you well, but if you was king of England you shouldn't have my girl as you are now.'—Yours to command,
'DAVID PROTHERO,'