invited to a family party at
Glanyravon.

'Put the chess-table into the book-room, Winifred, and lock the door.'

Mr Gwynne actually rose in the excitement of the moment.

'If the servants come they will disturb the men, and--and--all that sort
of thing, you know.'

Miss Gwynne and Rowland carried the chess-table into a small room,
opening into the drawing-room, and duly locked the door after them.

'I suppose you are fond of chess,' said Miss Gwynne for want of
something to say.

'Very,' said Rowland laconically, and she little knew what was passing
in his mind.

Always the same thoughts when in her presence--thoughts of mingled
approbation and dislike. But she cared little what he thought of her.

'Dry and pedantic, and very disagreeable,' was what she thought of him.

'Your nephew is rather a sinking-looking young man,' were Lady Mary's
words to Mrs Prothero, during his temporary absence.

'Yes, he is very clever and gentlemanlike. He gained high honours at
Oxford, and my cousin. Sir Philip Payne Perry, is going to procure him a
London curacy,'

Lady Mary looked still more favourably upon Rowland when he returned,
with a flush on his face, from the book-room.

'Do you know that young Prothero is a very handsome young man?' she said
to Miss Gwynne.

'Very handsome,' said Miss Gwynne, remembering her intentions for
Wilhelmina. And the carriages were announced.

CHAPTER VIII.

THE MISER'S SON.

It was Sunday evening, and all the inmates of Glanyravon Farm were
either at church or chapel, with the exception of Netta and one of the
servants, who remained to watch the sick Gladys. Netta said she had a
headache, and preferred staying at home. By way of curing it she put on
her best bonnet and went for a walk. As soon as she was out of sight of
the house she set off at a pace that did not bespeak pain of any kind.
She soon struck out of the country road, with its hedges of hawthorn,
into a field, and thence into a small wood or grove, almost flanking the
road. The warm June sun sent his rays in upon her through the trees, and
helped them to cast checkered shadows upon her path, lighting up, every
here and there, a bunch of fern or flowers, and brightening the trunks
of the interlacing trees. As she saw the lights and shadows dancing
before her she became serious for a moment, and fancied they were like
the will-o'-the-wisp, and portended no good; but she soon quickened her
pace, and at the fi