CHAPTER XVII.
THE COLONEL.
The next day it was evident to every one that Mrs Prothero was very ill.
She had never had any very extraordinary misfortunes or troubles, and the elopement of an only daughter was an event to her so dreadful and unexpected that it seemed as bad, or worse, than her death.

As nothing more was to be gleaned concerning Netta, and further inquiries were literally useless--indeed, Mr Prothero would not hear of their being made--Mrs Prothero gave way to her grief, and her husband's most passionate demonstrations of displeasure failed to frighten her into her usual calm submission to him and his humours.
Owen paid a visit to Mrs Jenkins' abode, and heard from the servant left in charge that she was not expected home for some time.

Owen bribed the woman to let him know when her mistress returned, and comforted his mother by assuring her that he would find out all about Netta from Aunt 'Lizbeth, whose tongue was too well oiled to stop going.
Mr and Mrs Jonathan offered to remain at the farm, but as they rather irritated Mr Prothero by their evident inclination to take up the defence of the offenders, Owen told his aunt that she had better write to Lady Payne Perry about Netta, as there was always a chance of great people hearing the news.

Owen was very well aware that his aunt could not possibly write to her aristocratic cousin with the pens, ink, and paper in general use at the farm, and that she would be obliged to go to her davenport at the vicarage, where he already saw her, in imagination, with the finest satin letter paper before her, mending her pen into the most delicate of points.
Accordingly they took their leave, with a promise to return on Monday, and were soon succeeded by Miss Gwynne, who, having heard of the elopement, came to see Mrs Prothero.
'If you could prevail on the mistress to go to bed, ma'am,' said Gladys when she opened the door to her, 'I would be for ever thankful to you; she is much too ill to be about, and she has done nothing but mope and fret all day.' Miss Gwynne went straight into the dairy, where Mrs Prothero was making butter.
'So Netta has taken the law into her own hands, Mrs Prothero.

So much the better; I shouldn't grieve about it if I were you.