'Gladys knows what I think on that subject,' said Owen, 'but she doesn't care what I think.'
This was said so that Netta, sitting opposite, did not hear.
'Oh, Mr Owen!' said Gladys, involuntarily.
'Oh, Mrs Snow!' said Owen.
'As the day went on, Netta got very weary, and, finally, slept. Minette, also, in spite of Gladys' resolute efforts to keep her awake, fell fast asleep, curled up in the corner, with her mother's feet in her lap. And so Owen and Gladys were tête-à-tête.
The November day was drawing to a close, and it was dull and dark. Gladys fancied Owen was asleep, and was thinking how very much more cheerful she felt in the morning than she did at that moment; and all because Owen said he was going to be married. She was trying to remember the great blessings she had lately experienced, and that she ought to be thinking of Netta instead of her brother.
At last, Owen started up, and said,—
'Gladys, do you like coming back to Glanyravon?'
'Dearly, sir, if you like to have me.'
'Now, Gladys, that is too absurd! You know I have wanted to have you all these years.'