"Yes," she said, rather sadly; "poor Donald!"
"I do not know why he need be pitied," said Sir William, dryly; "if he will only work, he will soon be able to earn a very fair income."
"But Donald does not like work," said Evelyn; "he says he would like to be independent, and to have plenty—plenty of money."
"He never will have plenty of money," said Sir William, almost angrily, as he shut the door.
"Papa does not like poor Donald," she said, as soon as he was out of hearing; "but he is so handsome, and he has such nice brown eyes. I do not know why papa dislikes him so much. I think it is because he is afraid he likes me too much. It is very strange that he does like me. I should have thought that he would have hated me; because if I had never been born, Cousin Donald would have lived here, and would have been just like papa's son. That makes me feel so sorry for him."
"Is he much older than you?" I asked.
"Yes, he is six years older," said Evelyn; "and papa and mamma had been married a long time, and they thought they would not have any children of their own, so papa was talking of adopting Cousin Donald, and educating him and leaving the property to him. Uncle and aunt were very pleased about it, because they have so many children. Cousin Donald is the eldest of thirteen now, and there were plenty of them even then, so they were quite willing to spare him to papa. But of course when I came, I put an end to all that little plan," she said, laughing.
"And where is your cousin Donald now?"
"Oh, poor fellow, he is in a bank, and he does so hate doing sums; he always did. They make his head ache, he says. He likes riding and shooting and fishing, and all such things, just the kind of life he would have had here, you know; it is very hard for him, is it not? And I am afraid he is rather lazy, and they say he wastes his money. But he is so good-looking, and I really think he cannot help it—yes, I really think he cannot help it."
"Cannot help what?" I inquired.