Your son, I hear, has been very fortunate." "Sir," said--Mrs.Avenel, interrupting the parson, "it is not because my son Richard is an honour to us, and is a good son, and has made his fortin, that we are to rob him of what we have to leave, and give it to a boy whom we know nothing about, and who, in spite of what you say, can't bring upon us any credit at all." "Why?
I don't see that." "Why!" exclaimed Mrs.Avenel, fiercely,--"why! you, know why.

No, I don't want him to rise in life: I don't want folks to be speiring and asking about him.

I think it is a very wicked thing to have put fine notions in his head, and I am sure my daughter Fairfield could not have done it herself.

And now, to ask me to rob Richard, and bring out a great boy--who's been a gardener or ploughman, or suchlike--to disgrace a gentleman who keeps his carriage, as my son Richard does--I would have you to know, sir.

No! I won't do it, and there's an end of the matter." During the last two or three minutes, and just before that approving "good" had responded to the parson's popular sentiment, a door communicating with an inner room had been gently opened, and stood ajar; but this incident neither party had even noticed.