Volume Three—Chapter Seven.
Glyddyr Endorses a Note.
“There, I’m off back to London town to keep a certain party quiet. You are going on all right here. You are bound to win, but don’t be rash—play her very carefully.”
Glyddyr nodded.
“And now take my advice; go and see a doctor—that man—what’s his name? Get him to set you up, dear boy. There: good-bye. Bless you, my son. It’s perhaps a million. Don’t play with it.”
“Haven’t got it to play with.”
“No; but you will have it by-and-by. There: once more, good-bye. Be gentle with her. Go early in the day, and promise me you’ll call at the doctor’s.”
“Yes, I promise,” said Glyddyr; and he stood watching Gellow, as he was rowed ashore, cursing him bitterly the while, but confessing in his own mind that he was right.
“Yes, I’ll go and see Asher,” he muttered. “He’ll set me up. I must go on with it. I’ll be a good husband to her. It’ll be like doing penance for the past—ugh!”