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.""I know she refused Warburton: he told me himself.""Well, that proves there's a chance for somebody else.""Somebody else took his chance the other day in London- and got nothing by it.""Was it you?" Mr.Touchett eagerly asked.
"No, it was an older friend; a poor gentleman who came over from America to see about it.""Well, I'm sorry for him, whoever he was.But it only proves what I say- that the way's open to you.""If it is, dear father, it's all the greater pity that I'm unable to tread it.I haven't many convictions; but I have three or four that I hold strongly.One is that people, on the whole, had better not marry their cousins.Another is that people in an advanced stage of pulmonary disorder had better not marry at all."The old man raised his weak hand and moved it to and fro before his face."What do you mean by that? You look at things in a way that would make everything wrong.What sort of a cousin is a cousin that you had never seen for more than twenty years of her life?
We're all each other's cousins, and if we stopped at that the human race would die out.It's just the same with your bad lung.You're a great deal better than you used to be.All you want is to lead a natural life.It is a great deal more natural to marry a pretty young lady that you're in love with than it is to remain single on false principles.""I'm not in love with Isabel," said Ralph.
"You said just now that you would be if you didn't think it wrong.Iwant to prove to you that it isn't wrong.""It will only tire you, dear daddy," said Ralph, who marvelled at his father's tenacity and at his finding strength to insist."Then where shall we all be?""Where shall you be if I don't provide for you? You won't have anything to do with the bank, and you won't have me to take care of.
You say you've so many interests; but I can't make them out."Ralph leaned back in his chair with folded arms; his eyes were fixed for some time in meditation.At last, with the air of a man fairly mustering courage, "I take a great interest in my cousin," he said, "but not the sort of interest you desire.I shall not live many years;but I hope I shall live long enough to see what she does with herself.
She's entirely independent of me; I can exercise very little influence upon her life.But I should like to do something for her.""What should you like to do?"
"I should like to put a little wind in her sails.""What do you mean by that?"
"I should like to put it into her power to do some of the things she wants.She wants to see the world for instance.I should like to put money in her purse.""Ah, I'm glad you've thought of that," said the old man."But I've thought of it too.I've left her a legacy- five thousand pounds.""That's capital; it's very kind of you.But I should like to do a little more."Something of that veiled acuteness with which it had been on Daniel Touchett's part the habit of a lifetime to listen to a financial proposition still lingered in the face in which the invalid had not obliterated the man of happiness."I shall be happy to consider it," he said softly.
"Isabel's poor then.My mother tells me that she has but a few hundred dollars a year.I should like to make her rich.""What do you mean by rich?"
"I call people rich when they're able to meet the requirements of their imagination.Isabel has a great deal of imagination.""So have you, my son," said Mr.Touchett, listening very attentively but a little confusedly.
"You tell me I shall have money enough for two.What I want is that you should kindly relieve me of my superfluity and make it over to Isabel.Divide my inheritance into two equal halves and give her the second.""To do what she likes with?"
"Absolutely what she likes."
"And without an equivalent?"
"What equivalent could there be?"
"The one I've already mentioned."
