'But Owen told me, seriously, that she refused to have anything to say to him, and begged me to be kind to her when he was gone away, for his sake.' 'Nothing but a trap to take you in--the deceitful young puppies--the--the--' 'Go and look about the horses and I'll make breakfast.' He went accordingly. All the horses were safe. Nothing was missing anywhere but Lion. 'I 'ouldn't take twenty pounds for that dog,' said Mr Prothero when he returned to the house, and sat down to breakfast. 'Hadn't we better send to look for them?' asked Mrs Prothero timidly. 'I'll see 'em hanged first. What! go and make another hullabaloo all through the country, as if one wasn't enough in one house. No, not I. Let 'em go to sea, or where they will; but don't tell anybody anything about 'em. Let people think what they will; I only wish I was at the world's end. But it's all your fault. Do you remember that morning when you bothered me into letting the girl stay? Fine things have come of it, seure enough.' 'But we don't know that they're together.' 'But we do, I say, Mrs Prothero; or why should they go off together? Fine things, indeed, for the gossips! Two 'lopements from one house. The young hussy.' Mrs Prothero could not help crying. To lose them both at once--a son and one who had been better than a daughter to her--it was too sad--and to feel so uncertain as to what would become of them! Mr Prothero was resolved to take no notice of her tears, but hastily swallowed his breakfast and went out. The servants did not need to be asked about the fugitives. They were all sure that they had run away together. Gladys, good and quiet as she seemed, was deep enough; and they had managed so well that nobody had seen them! Not like Miss Netta, who was so open! Many had seen her when she ran away! Mrs Prothero sent one of the men off in a search for Lion, feeling sure that if he were found, Gladys would be discovered. At about eleven o'clock, to Mrs Prothero's great delight, Miss Gwynne and Miss Hall called to see if the report about Owen and Gladys were true, and to hear what Mrs Prothero thought of it. Miss Gwynne was highly indignant. 'You cannot believe it, Mrs Prothero. That girl Gladys would no more run away with any man living than I would. If Mr Prothero won't send after her I will. Where is he?' 'Shall I send and tell him you want to speak to him?' 'By all means--directly.' Mr Prothero was soon in the house again, at Miss Gwynne's bidding. He looked more than usually red and excited. 'Mr Prothero, I would stake my life upon it, that girl has not gone off with your son. I don't like the Irish, or their beggars more than you do; but I am very fond of Gladys, and she shall not lose her character, or die of starvation whilst I have a horse to send after her, or a shilling to help her.'