hand lightly on his brother's shoulder, "don't YOU worry yourself about
that stock, old man; I'LL see that somebody else has the worry and you
the cash. And as to the land and--Kitty--well, you hold on to them both
until you find out which the young man is really after."

"And then?" said Gabriel, with a smile.

"Don't give him either! But, I say, haven't we had enough business this
morning? Let's talk of something else. Who's the French girl?"

"Marie? She's the daughter of Jules du Page--don't you
remember?--father's friend. When Jules died, it was always thought
that father, who had half adopted her as a child, would leave her
some legacy. But you know that father died without making a will, and
that--rich as he was--his actual assets were far less than we had reason
to expect. Kitty, who felt the disappointment as keenly as her friend, I
believe would have divided her own share with her. It's odd, by the way,
that father could have been so deceived in the amount of his capital,
or how he got rid of his money in a way that we knew nothing of. Do you
know, Sylvester, I've sometimes suspected"--

"What?" said Uncle Sylvester suddenly.

The bored languor of his face had abruptly vanished. Every muscle was
alert; his gray eyes glittered.

"That he advanced money to Du Page, who lost it, or that they speculated
together," returned Gabriel, who, following Uncle Sylvester's voice
only, had not noticed the change of expression.