"Plans!" I echoed. "I don't know—what do you mean, Richard?"
"I mean," he continued, sadly, "have you considered how this misfortune may affect us? Did Sir Harry ever tell you anything about his intentions—I mean what he thought of doing by his will? Don't look so scared, darling," he added, with a melancholy smile; "you will see just now what my reasons are. You can't suppose that a sordid thought ever entered my mind."
I was relieved.
"No; he never said a word to me about his will, except what I told you," I answered.
"Because the people who knew him at Wrexham are talking. Suppose he has cut me off and provided for you, could I any longer in honour hold you to an engagement, to fulfil which I could contribute nothing?"
"Oh, Richard, darling, how can you talk so? Don't you know, whatever I possess on earth is yours."
"Then my little woman refuses to give me up, even if there were difficulties?" he said, pressing my hands, and smiling down upon my face in a kind rapture.
"I could not give you up, Richard—you know I couldn't," I answered.
"My darling!" he exclaimed, softly, looking down upon me still with the same smile.
"Richard, how could you ever have dreamed such a thing? You don't know how you wound me."