hy? He
knew well enough. Michael had proposed the day, but she asked for time,
and he refrained from further importunity. His love and delicacy forbade
his giving her one moment's pain. Abraham was less squeamish. His long
experience told him that some good reason must exist for such a wish to
dwell in the young bosom of the blooming widow. It was unnatural and
foreign to young blood. It could be nothing else than the fear of parting
with her wealth--of placing all at the command of one, whom, though she
loved, she did not know that she might trust. Satisfied of this, he
resolved immediately to calm her apprehensions, and to assure her that not
one farthing of her fortune should pass from her control. He spoke of his
son as a man of wealth already, too proud to accept another's gold, even
were he poor. Perhaps he was. Margaret at least believed so. Abraham did
not quit her till the marriage day was settled.

He returned from the widow in ecstasy, and called his son to his own snug
private room.

"I have done it for you, Michael," said the father, rubbing his grasping
hands--it's done--it's settled, lad. Two months' patience, and the jewel
is your own. Thank your father, on your knees--oh, lucky Mike! But mark me,
boy. I have had enough to do. My guess was right. She was afraid of us,
but her fears are over. Till I told her that the bank would make you rich
without her, there was no relenting, I assure you.

"You said so, father, did you?" asked the son.

"Yes--I did. Remember that Mike when I am dead--remember what I have done
for you--put a fortune in your pocket, and given you an angel--remember
that, Mike, and respect my memory. Don't let the world laugh at your
father, and call him ugly names. You can prevent it if you like. A son is
bound to assert his father's honour, living or dead, at any price."

"He is, sir," answered Michael.

"I knew, Mike, that would be your answer. You are a noble fellow--don't
forget me when I am under ground; not that I mean to die yet no--no--I
feel a score of years hanging about me still. I shall dandle a dozen of
your young ones before these arms are withered. I shall live to see you--a
peer of the realm. That money--with your talents, Mike, will command a
dukedom."

"I am not ambitious, father."

"You lie--you are, Mike. You have got your father's blood in you. You
would risk a great deal to be at the top of the tree; so would I. _Would_
I? Haven't I? We shall see, Mike--we