"Then you would not be content to live here with your wife, and support yourself from the place?"
"I did not say so—but that it was impossible. Heaven knows I count wealth as nothing compared to Isabel."
"Then you only think of her, you care nothing for, for "—
Aunt Hannah paused, and put a hand to her throat, as if the words she suppressed pained her.
"I care for her, and for all that have been kind to her, now or ever," he replied, impressively; "most of all I am grateful to yourself."
"Once again," said aunt Hannah, clinging tenaciously to the point which seemed to interest her so much, "if you could not marry Isabel Chester without becoming as poor, for instance, as Joseph Esmond is—would you give up all and marry her?"
"Once again, then, yes, I would."
"And be happy after it?"
"With her, yes!"
"But you have never worked?"