to see him more!--never, never!' Thus thought Gladys.
For half-an-hour, whilst she was striving to calm herself, such thoughts
and thousands of others flitted through her mind; but she did not murmur
again at the sad lot which had been assigned to her by Providence; she
had gathered strength in that prayer which she had offered up out of her
trouble of heart. Still she felt aggrieved by her master's hard words,
knowing as she did that she did not deserve them; but she struggled hard
to conquer that pride which she knew ill became one in her dependent and
friendless state.

When she had sufficiently recovered herself, she went down to prepare
the supper, according to her custom. She found the hall empty, and
wondered what had become of her master and mistress. She glanced into
the garden, and saw them walking up and down engaged in earnest
conversation, although the hour was late and it was getting dark and
chill. She felt that they were talking about her. She would not listen,
and returned to spread the table for their evening meal; whilst doing
so, Owen made his appearance.

'Gladys,' he said, 'shake hands with me, and forgive me for causing you
pain. I hope it will be the first and last time.'

Gladys held out her hand, saying 'Oh, Mr Owen, I have nothing to
forgive, I am only very sorry''

As Owen held her hand, in stalked Mr Prothero, followed by his wife. He
was not looking very well pleased when he entered, but finding them
together, his dark frowning brow became still darker.

'Good-night, mother,' said Owen, 'I don't want any supper. Good-night,
father,' he added with a strong effort, but receiving no response, he
left the room.

Gladys longed to follow his example, but feared it would not be right.

'Gladys, I fear you are not well,' said Mrs Prothero gravely, but
kindly, 'perhaps you would like to go to bed.'

'Thank you, ma'am,' said Gladys, glancing furtively at her mistress,
whose gentle face looked perplexed and anxious.

'Good-night, then,' said Mrs Prothero.

Gladys could not speak, for there was something constrained in the
manners of her dear mistress, that she could not bear to see. She did
not venture to speak to Mr Prothero, but dropping him a silent curtsey,
as she left the room, went to bed, but not to sleep.

That night, Mrs Prothero went to her son, Owen's room, and heard the
history of the evening. He told her that he loved Gladys, but that she
did not care for him; and that his fa