“In truth, there is no such clause expressed; nor is there even a condition set down. But there is a desire, a hope expressed in this letter from my aunt; and you must read it before giving your opinion. It seems to me I must renounce the inheritance if I cannot give effect to the wish you will find set down here.”
“Is it, then, such a difficult matter?” inquired Verheyst, before opening the letter.
“Oh, that depends! My aunt wishes me to marry.”
“No unfair request, since she puts you in a position to maintain a wife.”
“I agree; but she has gone further and chosen a wife for me.”
“The deuce! that’s the worst part of the business.”
“Certainly; for she does not seem to have been acquainted with the young lady herself, who seems to be a granddaughter of a certain General von Zwenken, who married my aunt’s eldest sister. The young lady is at present living with her grandfather; and it would seem that my shrewd old aunt, to be revenged on the General, has hit upon this means of leaving her fortune to her niece and shutting out the rest of the family from any share in it. Consequently I am made use of, and the fortune is placed in my hands with instructions to hasten to lay it at the feet of this ‘fair lady.’ Nothing seems easier or more natural. But suppose the ‘fair lady’ should be ugly, hunchbacked, a shrew, or a troublesome coquette. In this case, you know, with my ideas about women and marriage, I should feel myself bound to refuse the fortune.”
“Refuse! refuse!—at the worst you can propose to divide it between you.”
“Now that would be acting in direct opposition to the express and formal wish of the testatrix. Read the letter and you will see.”