CHAPTER XXVI.
THE FRIEND.
Mr Prothero started as soon as his horse was ready, and, it must be confessed, in a very bad temper.

As soon as he got out of the precincts of Glanyravon, he began to make inquiries of every one he met, and at every cottage he passed, concerning Gladys.

It was evident, from the replies that he received, that if she had gone that road, it was so early in the morning that no one had seen her.
At last he fell in with a farmer's wife whom he knew, who was jogging along on horseback, with a little boy behind her.

After the usual greetings, he said,-- 'You never come to Glanyravon now, Mrs Davies.

I daresay you haven't seen any of our folk for a year ?' 'Well, not exactly.