"It's a note for fifteen hundred dollars—the money your brother left and the proceeds of the sale of some of his property."
"This is the note that those ruffians wanted?" he replied, taking the paper and reading it.
"I think a little of it belongs to me, for I earned it after the death of your brother."
"O, my boy, you shall have the whole of it! I will never touch a penny of it."
"But it does not all belong to me."
"Every mill of it," said he, earnestly. "You took care of my brother when he was sick, and he brought you up. You have a better claim to his property than I have, or should have if I needed it, which I do not."
"You are very kind, sir."
"Only just."
We went down stairs, and I saw that all the people in the hotel treated Mr. Rockwood with "distinguished consideration." At his request, the landlord called a carriage, and I went home in state. I had never been in a carriage before, and I regarded it as a very pleasant mode of conveyance.