“Ah!” said Mrs. Meredith. She looked at him curiously, this man who was capable of such wild quixotism, and said to herself that certainly things were better as they were. There was no danger that Mr. Meredith would ever be troubled by any scruples which would cause him to resign _his_ fortune. Then she shrugged her shoulders gently. “I suppose it is quite useless to argue with you,” she said, “but, at least, the fortune has done you a good turn, and I advise you to say nothing to any one else of your intention of resigning it. _Do_ the thing, if you like, when you return to America, but don’t talk of it now. It is yours until you choose to give it away, so pray take the great advantage it will give you.” She did not say in what way, but Kyrle knew to what she alluded; he knew that this wealth would render it difficult for the Joscelyns to object to him. He looked doubtfully at Aimée. “That,” he said, “would seem like sailing under false colors; or, at least, like winning what I most desire by a false representation.” “Now, Heaven grant me patience!” said Mrs. Meredith, impatiently. “But is not the fortune yours?” “For the present, yes,” he answered. “Then, why on earth should you take people who are not your friends into your confidence with regard to what you mean to do with it?” “Simply,” he replied, “because those people have a right to know what is my true position in life, and an accident like my uncle’s unsigned will does not affect that position. Am I not right?” said he, turning to Aimée. “I think that you are,” she answered, quietly. “Very well,” said Mrs. Meredith, “go your own way. I wash my hands of you both; but I am very sure that before you are done with this affair you will wish that you had followed my advice.” IX. The event more than justified this prediction. The storm which burst when Kyrle proposed himself to Major and Mrs. Joscelyn as a suitor for Aimée was such as the latter, with all her experience, had never known before. They would not have received the proposal of a prince had it been possible to refuse it, for they were resolutely determined to retain control of the heiress and her fortune. But a man who by his own acknowledgment had nothing, yet was capable of throwing away a million or more dollars--words were too weak to express their opinion of him! They rejected his suit with scorn, and the major grew fairly inarticulate when trying to express himself with regard to such unparalleled audacity. A penny-a-liner, a scribbler for newspapers, possessing not a dollar in property, yet so insane as to refuse a fortune for an absurd scruple! By Jove, a raving maniac would be as suitable a match! Never should Aimée throw herself away in such a manner--never! If it were necessary, they would constrain her for her own good. She should not wreck her life and her fortune by marrying a madman.