He found her ironing a shirt for him, and told her the news. She received them quietly. So many changes had got both her and Richard into a sober way of expecting. They went to Mr. Bell, and Richard begged him to do what he judged necessary. Mr. Bell at once communicated with lady Ann's lawyer, and requested him to inform her ladyship that sir Richard would call upon her the next day. Mr. Wingfold accompanied him to Mortgrange. Lady Ann received them with perfect coolness. “You are, I trust, aware of the cause of my visit, lady Ann?” said Richard. “I am.” “May I ask what you propose to do?” “That, excuse me, is my affair. It lies with me to ask you what provision you intend making for sir Wilton's family.” “Allow me, lady Ann, to take the lesson you have given me, and answer, that is my affair.” She saw she had made a mistake. “For my part,” she returned, “I should not object to remaining in the house, were I but assured that my daughters should be in no danger of meeting improper persons.” “It would be no pleasure, lady Ann, to either of us to be so near the other. Our ways of thinking are too much opposed. I venture to suggest that you should occupy your jointure-house.” “I will do as I see fit.” “You must find another home.” Lady Ann left the room, and the next week the house, betaking herself to her own, which was not far off, in the park at Cinqmer, the smaller of the two estates. The week following, Richard went to see Arthur. “Now, Arthur!” he said, “let us be frank with each other! I am not your enemy. I am bound to do the best I can for you all.” “When you thought the land was yours, I had a trade to fall back upon. Now that the land proves mine, you have no trade, or other means of making a livelihood. If you will be a brother, you will accept what I offer: I will make over to you for your life-time, but without power to devise it, this estate of Cinqmer, burdened with the payment of five hundred a year to your sister Theodora till her marriage.” Arthur was glad of the gift, yet did not accept it graciously. The disposition is no rare one that not only gives grudgingly, but receives grudgingly. The man imagines he shields his independence by not seeming pleased. To show yourself pleased is to confess obligation! Do not manifest pleasure, do not acknowledge favour, and you keep your freedom like a man! “I cannot see,” said Arthur, “--of course it is very kind of you, and all that! you wouldn't have compliments bandied between brothers!--but I should like to know why the land should not be mine to leave. I might have children, you know!”