id not speak, but looked at
him in a puzzled manner; then she said: "If you have something
disagreeable to tell me (and I cannot imagine what it is), at least hear
my point of view first. I am particularly anxious that you should marry.
As my heir, you are already comparatively rich, and your expectations
are excellent. You will have at my death a very large income. You will
also be the owner of this fine property. Now, I should like you to
marry, and I should like you to marry wealth."

"Why so? How unfair!" said the young man.

"It is a wish of mine. Wealth attracts wealth. There is a girl whom I
have heard of--whom I have, I believe, some years ago seen--a very
sweet, very graceful, very pretty girl. Her name is Miss Sharston. She
was poor, but I have lately heard that Sir John Wallis, the owner of
Cherry Court Park, in Buckinghamshire, is going to make her his heiress.
She is coming on a visit here. I cannot, of course, force your
inclination, Maurice; but if by any chance you and Catherine Sharston
should take a fancy to each other, it would be a union after my own
heart."

"Thank you," he answered. He rose immediately to his feet. "You are
treating me with your customary liberality. You have always been most
liberal, most generous. I am the son of a widow with very small means.
My father was strictly a man of honour. He was a soldier, and he fell in
his country's cause. I hope that, although he could not leave me gold,
he could and did leave me honour. I cannot afford to have my honour
tarnished."

"Maurice! I tarnish your honour! You really make very extraordinary
insinuations. What does this mean?"

"You didn't think about it, dear friend; it has not occurred to you to
look at it in this light, but, believe me, such is the case."

"Maurice!"

"I only knew of it lately," he continued, "and by an accident. You want
to give me a great deal of money now; you want to leave me a large sum
of money in the future. You propose that I shall if possible marry a
girl who is also to be very rich. That is a subject which cannot even be
discussed. I do not think, whatever happens, that I could marry any girl
I did not love. If this girl comes here, I shall of course be glad to
make her acquaintance, but I do not think it is right or just to her to
mention such a subject in connection with her name. But to proceed to
other matters. If I were to accept your offer just as you have made it,
I should perhaps be able to spe