re you would find him. It is
astonishing what a powerful name David Jones is. I know a Rev. David
Jones very well? a clergyman too--'

'Oh! if you could only tell me where to find him. I would go anywhere
for my poor mother's sake!'

The girl clasped her hands and looked imploringly at Owen. He was
silenced by the appeal of the eyes he did not believe in. Mrs Prothero
glanced at him reproachfully, and said,--

'It is such a common Welsh name that I am afraid it would be no guide to
you, unless you would remember the place where he lived.'

'I daresay it began with Llan,' broke in Owen.

'I am almost sure it did,' said Gladys; 'but mother never liked to talk
of the place,'

'What do you say, mother, to writing to the Rev. David Jones, Llan.,
etc., Carmarthenshire?'

Netta laughed aloud; she could not help it; whilst Gladys again looked
upon the ground.

'Owen,' whispered Mrs Prothero, taking her son's arm and leading him
away, 'what is a joke to you is death to her, remember that.'

'There, don't be angry, mother; I will help her to do her work
to-morrow.'

'He was as good as his word, and the following day resolutely kept near
the poor, timid girl, aiding her to bind up the full-eared corn, and
carrying it himself for her to the mows, into which they were hastily
forming the sheaves for fear of rain. He could not resist occasionally
alluding to Mr David Jones, but receiving no encouragement to carry out
the jest, and finding her as silent and shy as a frightened child, he
gave up the subject, and with it all attempt at conversation. He
declared afterwards that she worked like a slave, and knew all about
harvesting as well as anybody, only she was not strong, and that she was
the dullest Irish woman he ever saw in his life, since even the beggars
had a bit of fun in them. Indeed he didn't believe her to be Irish, or
credit a word of her story; but, as to beauty, he began to agree with
his mother, for if she had only a colour she would be as pretty a girl,
with as graceful a figure, as anybody need wish to see.

The farmer declared that she had well earned her supper; and that if
mother thought she would do, she might keep her instead of Betty, after
Hollantide; the said Betty having signified her intention of getting
married at the matrimonial season of the year. Mrs Prothero said she
would think it over, but she was afraid she was not strong enough for
hard farm service. It was evident that Gladys had take