"No doubt," put in Isabella, with a queer curtness.
"But my father looked upon you rather in the light I mentioned. He was very fond of you, and thought much of your welfare, and--"
"You think the burden should be hereditary," she interrupted again, but she smiled in a manner that softened the acerbity of her words.
"No, d**k," she said, "you are better at your fortune-hunting."
"It is not for myself," I said too hurriedly; for Isabella had always the power to make me utter hasty words, involving me in some quarrel in which I invariably fared badly.
"Who knows?"
"You think that if the fortune fell into my hands, the temptation would be too strong for a poor man like myself?" I inquired.
"Poor by choice!" The words were hardly audible, for Isabella was busying her fingers with some b
