been proved,
and that Cousin Henry was in possession of the property. He had
regarded Isabel and the property as altogether separated from each
other. Now he learned that such was not the general opinion in
Carmarthenshire. It was not his desire to push forward his suit
with the heiress of Llanfeare. He had been rejected on what he had
acknowledged to be fitting grounds while that had been her position.
When the matter had been altogether settled in Cousin Henry's favour,
then he could come forward again.

Isabel was quite sure that the newspaper was right. Did she not
remember the dying words with which her uncle had told her that
he had again made her his heir? And had she not always clearly
in her mind the hang-dog look of that wretched man? She was
strong-minded,--but yet a woman, with a woman's propensity to follow
her feelings rather than either facts or reason. Her lover had told
her that her uncle had been very feeble when those words had been
spoken, with his mind probably vague and his thoughts wandering.
It had, perhaps, been but a dream. Such words did not suffice as
evidence on which to believe a man guilty of so great a crime. She
knew,--so she declared to herself,--that the old man's words had
not been vague. And as to those hang-dog looks,--her lover had told
her that she should not allow a man's countenance to go so far in
evidence as that! In so judging she would trust much too far to her
own power of discernment. She would not contradict him, but she felt
sure of her discernment in that respect. She did not in the least
doubt the truth of the evidence conveyed by the man's hang-dog face.

She had sworn to herself a thousand times that she would not covet
the house and property. When her uncle had first declared to her his
purpose of disinheriting her, she had been quite sure of herself that
her love for him should not be affected by the change. It had been
her pride to think that she could soar above any consideration of
money and be sure of her own nobility, even though she should be
stricken with absolute poverty. But now she was tempted to long that
the newspaper might be found to be right. Was there any man so fitted
to be exalted in the world, so sure to fill a high place with honour,
as her lover? Though she might not want Llanfeare for herself, was
she not bound to want it for his sake? He had told her how certain he
was of her heart,--how sure he was that sooner or later he would win
her ha