CHAPTER XXXII.
THE MAN OF THE WORLD.
Two or three months passed, and no particular event happened either at the park or farm, and summer came round again.

Gladys was now established at the former, and Owen at the latter, but although they had seen one another frequently at church or at a distance, they had scarcely spoken since they parted on the evening of their remarkable meeting in the cow-house.

Gladys scrupulously avoided Owen, and all his endeavours to fall in with her were fruitless.
Colonel Vaughan was again at Glanyravon, and Freda was in buoyant spirits.

So, indeed, were her neighbours, the Nugents,--Miss Nugent in particular.

She was to be of age in a few days, and grand preparations were making to celebrate the event.
On the morning on which we take up our Glanyravon narrative Miss Nugent is inflicting herself upon Miss Gwynne, who longs to tell her to go away, but is too polite to do so.
'You know, Freda,' she says, 'I have been longing to be of age for yearth.