Gladys, the Reaper

by Anne Beale

'Because I did not want it, and because he had no right to offer it me.'

'Bravo, Gladys! You are a capital girl!'

'And yet, Mr Owen, you think all sorts of unkind things of me when I am absent. For six years!'

'How can I help it, Gladys? You know that I love you better than my life, and yet you won't care one straw for me.'

'Oh! Mr Owen.'

'I can tell you it is no trifling mark of constancy, for a wandering fellow like me to stick to farming, and doing the dutiful son all these years. I should have been off to sea again long ago but for you, and—'

'And the father and mother, Mr Owen.'

'Well, yes, to a certain extent. But you always answer every question but one like a pure, straightforward young woman, as you are. Why won't you tell me the reason you have for hating me so?'

'I don't hate you, Mr Owen.'

'It must be either love or hate. You don't love me. Do you love any one else?'