'Sir, my feelings are my own. Mr Owen has been like a brother to me, and the mistress like a mother—and you—oh, sir! should I not love his mother's son?'
Mr Prothero was touched; he could ask no more questions.
'There, there—go you and get ready directly. I promised Miss Gwynne to bring you back to Glanyravon, where she means to make you schoolmistress and lady's maid, and all the rest. I suppose you don't want to go to Ireland?'
'No, sir.'
'Have you any relations there?'
'No, sir.'
'You don't want to leave Glanyravon parish?'
'No, sir. I would rather live and die there than anywhere else in the world.'
'Then go you and get ready; and, mind you, have some ale before you start. I must keep my promise to Miss Gwynne; mind you yours to me. You 'ont encourage my son Owen without my consent'
'No, sir—never. And I do not wish or mean ever to marry any one, if you will only believe me.'