"Nothing," he replied, in a low, firm tone. "I--bear with me a moment, mother--I cannot let Dicky run riot any longer. He is growing up the very incarnation of selfishness; he thinks the world was made for him alone; you and his sisters are only regarded by him as so many ministers to his pleasure. See how he treats you all. See how he treats the servants. Were I to allow this state of things to continue, how should I be fulfilling my obligation to my dead father?--my father and Dicky's." "I will hear no more," spoke Mrs. Knox, possibly thinking the argument was getting too strong for her. "_I_ have wanted to speak to you, Arnold, and I may as well do it now. Things must be put on a different footing up here." "What things?" "Money matters. I cannot continue to do upon my small income." Arnold Knox passed his hand across his troubled brow, almost in despair. Oh, what a weary subject this was! Not for long together did she ever give him rest from it. "Your income is sufficient, mother; I am tired of saying it. It is between three and four hundred a-year; and you are free from house-rent." "Why don't you remind me that the house is yours, and have done with it!" she cried, her voice harsh and croaking as a raven's. "Well, it is mine," he said good-humouredly. "Yes; and instead of settling it upon me when you married, you must needs settle it on your wife! Don't _you_ talk of selfishness, Arnold." "My wife does not derive any benefit from it. It has made no difference to you." "She would derive it, though, if you died. Where should I be then?" "I am not going to die, I hope. Oh, mother, if you only knew how these discussions vex me!" "Then you should show yourself generous." "Generous!" he exclaimed, in a pained tone. And, goaded to it by his remembrance of what he had done for her in the present and in the past, he went on to speak more plainly than he had ever spoken yet. "Do you forget that a great portion of what you enjoy should, by right, be mine? _Is_ mine!" "Yours!" she scornfully said. "Yes: mine. Not by legal right, but by moral. When my father died he left the whole of his property to you. Considerably more than the half of that property had been brought to him by my mother: some people might have thought that much should have descended to her son." "He did not leave me the whole. You had a share of it." "Not of the income. I had a sum of five hundred pounds left me, for a specific purpose--to complete my medical education. Mother, I have never grumbled at this; never. It was my father's will and pleasure that the whole should be yours, and that it should go to your children after you; and I am content to think that he did for the best; the house was obliged to come to me; it had been so settled at my mother's marriage; but you have continued to live in it, and I have not said you nay." "It is like you to remind me of all this!"