“So he did, my dear; and offered to give up more of his own time. But your Uncle Hatto is hard.”
“He is rich, is he not?”
“Well; your father says not. Your father says that he spends all his income. Though he is hard and obstinate, he is not selfish. He is very good to the poor, but I believe he thinks that early marriages are very foolish.”
“Mamma,” said Isa again, when they had sat for some minutes in silence over their work.
“Well, my love?”
“Have you spoken to Uncle Hatto about this?”
“No, dear; not since that day when your papa and I first went to him. To tell the truth, I am almost afraid to speak to him; but, if you wish it, I will do so.”
“I do wish it, mamma. But you must not think that I am discontented or impatient. I do not know that I have any right to ask my uncle for his money;—for it comes to that.”
“I suppose it does, my dear.”
“And as for myself, I am happy here with you and papa. I do not think so much of these four years.”