'Remember, Netta, who said "and if ye have done it unto the least of these my brethren, ye have done it unto me."'
'If those people are one's brethren, as father says, the sooner we disown our relations the better.'
Whilst Miss Janetta was uttering this unchristian speech, and greatly shocking her mother thereby, a young man entered with a book in his hand, and throwing himself on the sofa, began to read. It was soon, however, evident that he was listening to the conversation, although he professedly kept his eyes on his book. Poor Mrs Prothero continued her efforts to enlist her daughter on the side of charity, but did not greatly prevail. The young man did not interfere, probably being aware that it is better to let two women finish their own quarrel.
Again, however, they were interrupted by the appearance of a fourth, and more animated personage.
'Good evening, Mrs Prothero. How do you do, Netta?' exclaimed the new comer, shaking Mrs Prothero's hand, and pulling Netta's curls. Hereupon the young man arose from the sofa, and bowing profoundly, said,—
'Good evening, Miss Gwynne,' with a tone as grave as his appearance.
'I beg your pardon, Mr Rowland,' said the young lady, who we now introduce in form as Miss Gwynne of Glanyravon Park.
With a very becoming grace, she advanced and held out her hand to Mr Rowland Prothero, eldest son of the good farmer and his wife, just returned from Oxford. Mr Rowland slightly touched the hand, bowed again gravely, and placed a chair for Miss Gwynne.
'I thought I should never come here again,' said that young lady, turning from Mr Rowland with a nod and a 'thank you,' and retreating towards the window where the mother and daughter were standing, 'what with the rain, and poor papa's nervous complaints, and all the affairs, I declare I have been as busy as possible.'
'Now, Miss Gwynne, I am sure you will agree with me,' cried Netta, suddenly brightening up and getting animated 'Do you think it right to encourage those Irish beggars?'