'I know I have indulged her--spoilt her perhaps.

I know she is proud and wilful, and obstinate; but oh! to disobey us all--to go off, she doesn't know where--with Howel, too, who has no religion, nothing to keep him pure and honest--this is too much! too hard! No, David, bach! it is no good to be angry now--if you won't go after her I must.' 'Stop you, mother, stop you! we'll see the slut married anyhow; that is to say, Howel shall marry her--who ever doubted that?
but I'll never set eyes on her again as long as I live, I 'ont.' Whilst Mr Prothero was speaking, Gladys, who had been waiting upon Mrs Prothero until that moment, slipped out of the room, and ran in search of Owen.

She found him amongst servants making inquiries.
'Mr Owen, may I speak with you if you please.' Owen followed her into the hall.
'Oh! sir, if you would go after Miss Netta, now that the master is willing, at once; may be you will save your mother's life.

If she goes on this way, she will surely be very ill.' 'What use would it be for me to go after her?
The cow-boy saw her pass at about five this morning, and she is at Swansea by this time.

My father ought to have let 'em marry, and get on together like other young couples.' 'But, Mr Owen, the mistress is afraid--she wants to be sure--she would be happier, sir, if some one could see them married!' 'Oh! that's the way the wind blows! You may tell mother that I'll try to track them--but it won't be of any use.