The letter did not improve Eugene’s mental condition. He could not help feeling that she was disappointed and unhappy, and he continued to charge himself with the misfortunes which had fallen upon her. He frankly told her brother his feelings in regard to her. “Well, I always thought, Mr. Hungerford, that she was fond of you. She always used to speak of you to me just as though it was a settled thing with her, and, up to the time you got this money, I supposed you understood each other perfectly,” said Ross. “Nothing particular ever passed between us, Ross,” replied Eugene. “I didn’t suppose there had; but anybody can see through a millstone when there is a hole in it. I hadn’t much doubt as to how the thing would turn out. I suppose everybody in the place had the same idea.” “I was not aware of it.” “In such matters, other folks sometimes know better what is going to happen than you do yourself.” “I seldom met her.” “That didn’t seem to make much difference. When you went to school together, the story was started. But you saw her once in a while, and I know she used to be thinking of you all the time. Well, she didn’t say so, but I was just as well satisfied as though she had told me with her own mouth that she liked you. I hadn’t any doubts till the money came.” “Did you think that would make any difference with me?” asked Eugene, anxiously. “Perhaps I didn’t exactly think so, but I was afraid it might make some difference with you. I knew Mary liked you, and for her sake I couldn’t help wishing things had got a little further along. I knew the money wouldn’t break anything off with you, but I was afraid it would keep them from going on. Besides, folks in the village had a good deal to say about it.” “What did they say?” “They didn’t talk of anything but you and your money for a week after the news came. I didn’t ask any questions; I generally pay attention to my own business; but it was said, that, according to your uncle’s will, you would have to get married right off.” “They did not know me, and they did not understand the provision of the will,” added Eugene, petulantly. “They said you wouldn’t marry Mary now; that you would find some lady in the city! and such things as that. I didn’t pay much attention to what they said. Mary did not talk about you to me, after that, as much as she used to before. As near as I could make it out, she thought the money would come between you and her.” “Why should she have thought so?” “It wasn’t very strange, I think. I talked with her the day I went away about things in general. I asked her if you and she were good friends still; she said you were, but she didn’t think you were quite as cordial--that’s the word she used--as you were formerly.”