"No, madam; I give up the property. You have made us equal; Isabel would have refused me with this wealth; she will not find the heart to reject me now."
"Frederick, you are—yes—if this gentleman permits, I must say it—you are an ingrate!"
"My guardian must be informed of this will and its conditions," said
Farnham.
"I expected this!" exclaimed Mrs. Farnham, addressing the lawyer; "no regard for his mother, no respect for his dear father's memory. You see, my friend, what a trial I have had!"
The lawyer looked keenly at young Farnham.
"You had better let this subject rest," he said; "it has been well managed so far; leave it with this good lady and myself."
"There seems no need of management here," was the firm answer; "my father's will must be carried out."
"Let me act between you and your gentle mamma, dear sir. She must yield a little, I see. You have a fancy, I am told, for the young lady who has been so long an object of her bounty. Suppose your mother can be induced to withdraw her objections to the match, on condition that you let this matter of the will rest. It is so unpleasant to a sensitive nature like hers, this raking up of buried troubles. Consent to let them rest as they are, and I will undertake to gain consent to your marriage with this—I must admit—very beautiful young creature. Say, is it settled?"
"Not yet, or thus," answered the young man, firmly; "I have an alternative, and I solemnly believe the only one which will win this noble girl to become my wife. Instead of embezzling my father's property, which does not belong to me, if I marry her, I can renounce that which brings so cruel an incumbrance."
"But you will not," said the lawyer.