them. His two elder children by his first marriage had long since left
the home. The girl was in service. It troubled him to think of the boy,
who had fallen into bad ways early. Bessie's children were all small,
and she herself still young, though over thirty.

When Bessie came up to him, she looked round to see that no one could
hear. Then she stooped and told him her errand in a panting whisper. He
must go down and fetch the box at once. She had promised John Borrofull
that they would stand by him. They were his own flesh and blood--and the
cupboard had a capital lock--and there wasn't no fear of it at all.

Isaac listened to her at first with amazement, then sulkily. She had
talked to him often certainly about John's money, but it had made little
impression on his dreamer's sense. And now her demand struck him
disagreeably.

He didn't want the worrit of other people's money, he said. Let them as
owned it keep it; filthy lucre was a snare to all as had to do with it;
and it would only bring a mischief to have it in the house.

After a few more of these objections, Bessie lost her temper. She broke
into a torrent of angry arguments and reproaches, mainly turning, it
seemed, upon a recent visit to the house of Isaac's eldest son. The
drunken ne'er do weel had given Bessie much to put up with. Oh, yes!--
_she_ was to be plagued out of her life by Isaac's belongings, and he
wouldn't do a pin's worth for her. Just let him see next time, that was
all.

Isaac smoked vigorously through it all. But she was hammering on a sore
point.