"Then ask her, and when she has refused you, fight the validity of your father's will."
"But she might not refuse me," said I. "She hates me, though! I know that. There is no one on earth with such a keen scent for my faults."
"Ye-es," said Turner slowly. "Well?"
"She might think it her duty to accept me on account of the will."
"Have you ever known a woman weigh duty against the inclination of her own heart?"
"I know little about women," replied I, "and doubt whether you know more."
"That is as may be. And you wouldn't marry Isabella for two thousand a year?"
"Not for twenty thousand," replied I, half in my wineglass.
"Virtuous young man! Why?"
I looked at Turner and laughed.