Mr Gray was not a lawyer for nothing. He saw he had gone too far; his manner altered--he became business-like, grave, polite, and as a matter of course, persuasive. "You have been left this money, Miss Lindley," he said, "on, I grant you, very peculiar conditions." "On impossible conditions," I interrupted. "Now, now, that is the point I am coming to; _are_ the conditions impossible?" "They are. Mr Gray, if you have nothing more to add I will say good-morning." "I have a great deal more to add. This is a very serious matter, and you must not be a child about it." "A child?" "Yes! a baby, if you like. The fact is, Miss Lindley, I have no patience with you." "You have not?" "No, I have none whatever! You are both conceited and selfish. I am ashamed of you." Mr Gray spoke in a very angry tone. Strange as it may seem, I quite enjoyed it. At that moment it was positively nice to be scolded. "I will listen to you," I said, in a weak voice. "You are very selfish," pursued Mr Gray. "Providence intends you to be wealthy, and to help all your relatives. Providence means you to be a blessing and assistance to your family. You prefer to be a hindrance, a clog, a kill-joy, a spoil-all. Your mother is delicate, your father poor, your brothers without any opening in life. You can remove the thorns out of all their paths. You refuse to do this. Why? Because of pride. Providence, in addition to wealth, offers you the best fellow in Christendom for a husband. You won't even look at him. You refuse to make him happy by becoming his wife, and you leave him in a state of poverty, because he can not inherit the fortune which is offered to him without your assistance. Thousands and tens of thousands of pounds are placed at your feet. What a power they are! what a grand power! But you won't have anything to say to them, and they go to enrich the Jews, and the Society for Befriending Lame Cats, or some other preposterous charity, I'm sure I can't say what." Mr Gray's voice rose to a perfect storm of indignation as he spoke of the provisions Cousin Geoffrey had made for the spending of his wealth in case I refused to comply with the conditions of his will. "Well, what am I to do?" I said, when the angry little man paused again for want of breath. "Am I, influenced by the reasons you have mentioned, to lower myself, to have no regard at all for those natural feelings of pride which all girls ought to have, and go up to my almost unknown cousin and beg and pray of him to take pity on me, and allow me to become his wife?" "Who said you were to do anything of the kind?" "Please, Mr Gray, _what_ am I to do?" The lawyer jumped from his chair, rushed over to me, and seized both my hands. "Now you are reasonable," he said; "now you are delightful--now you shall listen to my scheme." "Please what is your scheme?" "Listen, listen. In the first place, Tom knows nothing of the conditions of the will."