Gladys, the Reaper

by Anne Beale

'No.'

'Have you a heart to give?'

'Ye—no.'

'Which do you mean?'

'I cannot tell you, indeed I cannot!'

'Oh! Gladys, if you knew the pain! Why will you not make me happy, or at least give me a sensible reason?'

'I—I—promised—oh, Mr Owen.'

'Dear Gladys, what? I will never betray you, and will always be a friend, a brother. Who have you promised? Not to marry, not to love—'

'Your father, Mr Owen. I—I—promised never—to—without his consent.'

Fortunately it was dusk, and the curtain between the double carriage was drawn, and Netta and Minette were, apparently at least, fast asleep, so no one saw Owen jump up from his seat with a kind of bound, seize Gladys' hand, try to look into her face, and finally sit down again, retaining possession of the said hand across the elbow of the carriage.