'Well, Mr Prothero, will you send after Gladys, or shall I? You needn't have her back here. There is a situation of schoolmistress or lady's maid for her at once. I will take her in either capacity.'
'Indeed, Mr Prothero,' said Miss Hall, 'I think you may trust Gladys; that letter is sincere if ever anything was.'
'Who is to search, for there is no time to lose?' asked Miss Gwynne.
She was the only person in Wales who would have moved Mr Prothero, but he never could refuse her anything.
'What you say, Miss, is seure to have sense in it. I never knew you take to any one yet who wasn't worth something, so I'll just ride myself and look after 'em both. I shouldn't like people to fancy we were in a fuss and fright. But remember, Miss Gwynne, it is to oblige you; and if I find that she has run away with my son—'
'You may do what you like, Mr Prothero, for then I will have nothing to say to her. But go at once, and thank you very much.'
'I'll go Swansea way, for I am sure they'll take to the sea. Ach a fi! what's gone to the young people.'
In less than a quarter of a hour Mr Prothero had mounted his best mare, and muttering a great many Welsh oaths, was soon riding in search of the fugitives. When he got out of his own immediate neighbourhood, he began to ask whether 'a tall, dark, young man, and a tall, pale, young 'ooman' had been seen.
'Is it a couple of gipsies, Mr Prothero?' asked a farmer, who lived about seven miles from Glanyravon. 'I did see a dark man, and a sallow 'ooman go up the lane by now.'
'Was the man like my son Owen?'