If a thing is a man's own he can give it away;--not a house, or a farm, or a wood, or anything like that; but a thing that he can carry about with him,--of course he can give it away." "But perhaps Sir Florian didn't mean to give it for always," suggested Miss Macnulty.
"But perhaps he did.

He told me that they were mine, and I shall keep them.

So that's the end of it.

You can go to bed now." And Miss Macnulty went to bed.
Lizzie, as she sat thinking of it, owned to herself that no help was to be expected in that quarter.

She was not angry with Miss Macnulty, who was, almost of necessity, a poor creature.