Volume I Part 33 (1/2)
”Well,” the old man observed with wandering irrelevance, ”it can't be said that my death will make much difference in your mother's life.”
”It will probably make more than you think.”
”Well, she'll have more money,” said Mr. Touchett. ”I've left her a good wife's portion, just as if she had been a good wife.”
”She has been one, daddy, according to her own theory. She has never troubled you.”
”Ah, some troubles are pleasant,” Mr. Touchett murmured. ”Those you've given me for instance. But your mother has been less--less--what shall I call it? less out of the way since I've been ill. I presume she knows I've noticed it.”
”I shall certainly tell her so; I'm so glad you mention it.”
”It won't make any difference to her; she doesn't do it to please me.
She does it to please--to please--” And he lay a while trying to think why she did it. ”She does it because it suits her. But that's not what I want to talk about,” he added. ”It's about you. You'll be very well off.”
”Yes,” said Ralph, ”I know that. But I hope you've not forgotten the talk we had a year ago--when I told you exactly what money I should need and begged you to make some good use of the rest.”
”Yes, yes, I remember. I made a new will--in a few days. I suppose it was the first time such a thing had happened--a young man trying to get a will made against him.”
”It is not against me,” said Ralph. ”It would be against me to have a large property to take care of. It's impossible for a man in my state of health to spend much money, and enough is as good as a feast.”
”Well, you'll have enough--and something over. There will be more than enough for one--there will be enough for two.”
”That's too much,” said Ralph.
”Ah, don't say that. The best thing you can do; when I'm gone, will be to marry.”
Ralph had foreseen what his father was coming to, and this suggestion was by no means fresh. It had long been Mr. Touchett's most ingenious way of taking the cheerful view of his son's possible duration. Ralph had usually treated it facetiously; but present circ.u.mstances proscribed the facetious. He simply fell back in his chair and returned his father's appealing gaze.
”If I, with a wife who hasn't been very fond of me, have had a very happy life,” said the old man, carrying his ingenuity further still, ”what a life mightn't you have if you should marry a person different from Mrs. Touchett. There are more different from her than there are like her.” Ralph still said nothing; and after a pause his father resumed softly: ”What do you think of your cousin?”
At this Ralph started, meeting the question with a strained smile. ”Do I understand you to propose that I should marry Isabel?”
”Well, that's what it comes to in the end. Don't you like Isabel?”
”Yes, very much.” And Ralph got up from his chair and wandered over to the fire. He stood before it an instant and then he stooped and stirred it mechanically. ”I like Isabel very much,” he repeated.
”Well,” said his father, ”I know she likes you. She has told me how much she likes you.”
”Did she remark that she would like to marry me?”
”No, but she can't have anything against you. And she's the most charming young lady I've ever seen. And she would be good to you. I have thought a great deal about it.”
”So have I,” said Ralph, coming back to the bedside again. ”I don't mind telling you that.”
”You ARE in love with her then? I should think you would be. It's as if she came over on purpose.”
”No, I'm not in love with her; but I should be if--if certain things were different.”
”Ah, things are always different from what they might be,” said the old man. ”If you wait for them to change you'll never do anything. I don't know whether you know,” he went on; ”but I suppose there's no harm in my alluding to it at such an hour as this: there was some one wanted to marry Isabel the other day, and she wouldn't have him.”