It never really struck her that he might misuse the authority she indifferently left in his hands.
It was her aunt who had induced her to make the will, and for whose conduct she felt a sort of undefined resentment and contempt.
Considering, she thought, how improbable it was that she herself should die before Matilde Macomer, the latter had shown an absurd anxiety about the disposal of the fortune.

If Veronica had yielded the point, she had done so in order to get rid of an importunity which wearied her perpetually.

She was to marry, of course, in due time.

God would give her children, and they would inherit her wealth.

It was really ridiculous of her aunt to be so anxious lest it should all go to those distant relations in Sicily and Spain.