How would father like that?
Irish beggar against Abertewey! Come, Howel's better than that any day.
'Handsome is that handsome does,' said Owen, getting very red.

'And Gladys has done well ever since she's been at Glanyravon by every one belonging to us, not excepting yourself.' 'Very much obliged to her, I am sure,' said Netta, suddenly sitting up in bed, and forgetting her headache.

'She needn't trouble herself about me.

I fancy we are never likely to cross one another again, unless she chances to come a-begging to Abertewey, and then perhaps--' 'And then perhaps you would give her a penny and send her on to starve.
Oh! Netta, Netta, how were you ever my mother's daughter?
But once for all, Netta, I will never hear one word spoken against Gladys.

_I_ at least am thankful that I still have a mother, and I owe it to her.' 'Dear me! you needn't be in such a huff directly, Owen.