‘The property has always gone in the male line,’ replied Amabel.
‘There never was such a state of things. Old Sir Guy could never have thought of entailing it away from his own descendant on a distant cousin. It would be wrong of me to profit by these unforeseen contingencies, and you ought not, in justice to your child, to object.’
He spoke so forcibly and decidedly that he thought he must have prevailed. But not one whit convinced, Amabel answered, in her own gentle voice, but beginning with a business-like argument:—‘Such a possibility was contemplated. It was all provided for in the marriage settlements. Indeed, I am afraid that, as it is, she will be a great deal too rich. Besides, Philip, I am sure this is exactly what Guy would have chosen,’ and the tears rose in her eyes. ‘The first thing that came into my head when she was born, was, that it was just what he wished, that I should have her for myself, and that you should take care of Redclyffe. I am certain now that he hoped it would be so. I know—indeed I do—that he took great pleasure in thinking of its being in your hands, and of your going on with all he began. You can’t have forgotten how much he left in your charge? If you were to give it up, it would be against his desire; and with that knowledge, how could I suffer it? Then think what a misfortune to her, poor little thing, to be a great heiress, and how very bad for Redclyffe to have no better a manager than me! Oh, Philip, can you not see it is best as it is, and just as he wished?’
He almost groaned—‘If you could guess what a burden it is.’
‘Ah! but you must carry it, not throw it down on such hands as mine and that tiny baby’s,’ said she, smiling.
‘It would have been the same if it had been a boy.’
‘Yes; then I must have done the best I could, and there would have been an end to look to, but I am so glad to be spared. And you are so fit for it, and will make it turn to so much use to every one.’
‘I don’t feel as if I should ever be of use to any one,’ said Philip, in a tone of complete dejection.
‘Your head is aching,’ said she, kindly.
‘It always does, more or less,’ replied he, resting it on his hand.