“Do you think, Lewis,” he said, scornfully, “that if my father had lived long enough to change his will according to the desire which you have several times seen fit to express, that this is the provision which he would have made for me?”
“If you do not consider it sufficient,” said Lewis, evasively, “I will say a thousand dollars, in addition to the farm. That will enable you to stock it amply, and live quite independently.”
“You are generous,” said Robert, with sarcasm, for his spirit was now fully roused; “but think not that I will become a pensioner upon your bounty. One tenth part even of the pittance which you offer me, if it came from my father, I would gratefully accept. But for you, who bestow your alms upon me as if I were a beggar, instead of the son of the man from whom all your wealth is wrongfully derived, I scorn your gift, and reject it.”
“You are hasty, and may regret your decision. Think of your daughter,—would you leave her penniless?”
“Let her decide that question. Helen, shall we accept what this man offers, or shall we preserve our humble independence, as we have done heretofore?”
“So long as I have you, papa, it is enough. God will take care of us.”
“You hear her answer, Lewis Rand. I have but one thing to say to you before we part,—it may be for the last time upon earth. I am not ignorant of the arts by which you have brought about and kept up the estrangement between my father and myself; how many overtures towards reconciliation on either side have been defeated through your machinations; how carefully you have kept alive in my father’s heart the belief that I was dead, though you knew it to be false. By such means you have compassed your object. I do not envy you your reward. Far less will I be indebted to you for a miserable pittance of that wealth which you have wrested from me by a systematic course of treachery and deceit. Come, Helen, let us go.”
Lewis Rand turned red and white by turns during this unexpected address, which satisfied him that Mr. Sharp had proved faithless to his trust. But flushed as he was with success, he could afford to disregard it all now.
“Do as you please,” he said, coldly. “At any rate, you cannot deny that I have made the offer. You may, some day, regret not having accepted it.”
“Never!” said his cousin, vehemently.