ter born and better trained than he; for old Jacob Aird
was none of those irregular geniuses of the pencil, addicted to
gin-punch and Shelley, and selfish to the core, but a plain honest man,
who had brought up his daughter well--in tastes a lady, but housewifely
and wisely too. As for the inequality of wealth between them, her son
would have enough for both; and it was certain that Agnes did not love
him for his expectations, for they were unknown alike to her and him.
Harry had never led him to believe that he would be a rich man; her
love, as we have said, had made her wise in all that concerned Charley;
and as for his father, he was naturally reticent in such matters. He did
not spend one fifth part of his income. His habits were as inexpensive
as they had been in the old days at Gethin; and if the village folks had
ever hinted to the young fellow of his father's wealth, he had no
conception of its real extent. The idea itself, too, would have had no
great interest for him; he liked to have money for the pleasure of
spending it, but it was never the object of his thoughts; he was too
careless, too much the creature of the hour, to forecast his future. His
mother gave him all she could, but he was aware that it was obtained
with difficulty; the cost of his very education, which he had received
at a school near Turlock, had, he knew, been grudged; his father had
often grumbled that it was money thrown away, for, "Look at me," said
he; "I taught myself." There was always, in short, a tightness in the
Coe money market that augured any thing but pecuniary prosperity.

The very fact of their having taken lodgings at Mr. Aird's house,
situated as it was in Soho, a respectable but far from fashionable
locality, argued but moderate means, and placed the artist out of all
suspicion of setting his pretty daughter as a matrimonial snare for
Charley. She was pretty enough and good enough, the old man justly
thought, for him or for his betters; and though he regarded the
good-will which the young people evidently entertained for one another
with favor, he saw in it neither condescension nor advantage. Solomon,
much engaged in business affairs away from home, and estimating,
besides, the power of love at a low rate, was not seriously alarmed at
the growing attachment between his son and Agnes, nor would have been
had it advanced much farther. He thought he had only to say "No," to put
a stop to it at any point. Still he had determi