“I am.”

“May I ask what you propose to do?”

“That, excuse me, is my affair. It lies with me to ask you what provision you intend making for sir Wilton’s family.”

“Allow me, lady Ann, to take the lesson you have given me, and answer, that is my affair.”

She saw she had made a mistake.

“For my part,” she returned, “I should not object to remaining in the house, were I but assured that my daughters should be in no danger of meeting improper persons.”

“But, of course, I can give you no assurances that would meet with your satisfaction. It would be no pleasure for either of us, lady Ann, to be so near one another. Our ways of thinking are too much opposed. I venture to suggest that you should occupy the old house of your father’s.”

“I will do as I see fit.”

Lady Ann left the room, and the next week left the house for Cinqmer, which was not far off, the smaller of the two estates.

The week following Richard went to see Arthur there.

“Now, Arthur,” he said, “let us be frank with each other. I am not your enemy. I am bound to do the best I can for you all.

“When you thought the land was yours, I had a trade to fall back on. Now that the land proves mine, you have no such means of making a livelihood. If you will be a brother, you will accept what I offer you. I will turn over to you for your lifetime, but without power to pass it on after you, this estate of Cinqmer, with the only burden imposed upon it that you pay five hundred a year to your sister Theodora till her marriage.”

Arthur was glad of the gift, yet found it difficult to accept it graciously. Many men imagine that they shield their independence by not seeming pleased.

“I cannot see,” said Arthur, “—of course it is very kind of you, and all that—but I should like to know why the land should not be mine to leave. I might have children, you know!”