'Good-bye, Gladys,--good-bye, Owen,' he said, stretching out his hand, which was clasping that of his brother as the train began to move, and separated him from the sister, brother, niece, and friend whom he loved so well. Poor Netta cried long and quietly in the corner of the carriage in which she had been placed. Of course she had the side without an arm that she might put up her feet when she liked, so Owen and Gladys were placed, of necessity, side by side, and Minette jumped upon Gladys' lap, and began talking of Glanyravon. Owen and Gladys were quite shy with one another. The former studied Bradshaw, the latter occupied herself with Minette. When Netta ceased crying, Owen tried to engage her attention, and amused her for a time by accounts of home and country news. But by degrees she relapsed into her usual abstraction. Owen hated railway travelling, and was a great fidget. Out at every station, of course, and alternately reading the newspaper and making remarks upon the confounded November weather when in the carriage. He scarcely addressed Gladys particularly, but talked to Netta or Minette; and Gladys thought him very cold and constrained, but did not know that he was thinking of what Colonel Vaughan had done years ago, and comparing it with Mr Jones' embrace. 'Do you know, Netta, that I am thinking of getting married?' he said suddenly, and thoroughly rousing Gladys. 'Don't be so foolish, Owen! You have been getting married or falling in love ever since you were twelve,' said Netta. 'Who is it now?' 'Miss Richards,--Dr Richards' daughter. It is the talk of the county. You know she has plenty of money.' Owen cast a side glance towards Gladys and saw her turn quite pale, which was very satisfactory to him. 'Is Miss Richards pretty, uncle?' asked Minette. 'Is she as pretty as Gladys?' 'That depends upon taste.' 'But what do you think, uncle? She must be very pretty, if she is as pretty as my dear Gladys! Isn't Gladys pretty, uncle?' 'Gladys knows what I think on that subject,' said Owen, 'but she doesn't care what I think.' This was said so that Netta, sitting opposite, did not hear. 'Oh, Mr Owen!' said Gladys, involuntarily. 'Oh, Mrs Snow!' said Owen. 'As the day went on, Netta got very weary, and, finally, slept. Minette, also, in spite of Gladys' resolute efforts to keep her awake, fell fast asleep, curled up in the corner, with her mother's feet in her lap. And so Owen and Gladys were _tete-a-tete_. The November day was drawing to a close, and it was dull and dark. Gladys fancied Owen was asleep, and was thinking how very much more cheerful she felt in the morning than she did at that moment; and all because Owen said he was going to be married. She was trying to remember the great blessings she had lately experienced, and that she ought to be thinking of Netta instead of her brother. At last, Owen started up, and said,-- 'Gladys, do you like coming back to Glanyravon?' 'Dearly, sir, if you like to have me.'