“Do you know, my dear Gaston, that thus far we have discussed every topic except the most important one?”

“Why do you look so solemn, Louis?  What is the grave subject of which you speak?”

“Our father’s estate.  Supposing you to be dead, I inherited, and have disposed of it.”

“Is that what you call a serious matter?” said Gaston with an amused smile.

“It certainly is very serious to me; as you have a right to half of the estate, I must account to you for it.  You have—­”

“I have,” interrupted Gaston, “a right to ask you never to allude to the subject again.  It is yours by limitation.”

“I cannot accept it upon those terms.”

“But you must.  My father only wished to have one of us inherit his property; we will be carrying out his wishes by not dividing it.”

Seeing that Louis’s face still remained clouded, he went on: 

“Ah, I see what annoys you, my dear Louis; you are rich, and think that I am poor, and too proud to accept anything from you.  Is it not so?”

Louis started at this question.  How could he reply so as not to commit himself?

“I am not rich,” he finally said.

“I am delighted to hear it,” cried Gaston.  “I wish you were as poor as Job, so that I might share what I have with you.”

Dinner over, Gaston rose and said: 

“Come, I want to visit with you, my—­that is, our property.  You must see everything about the place.”

Louis uneasily followed his brother.  It seemed to him that Gaston obstinately shunned anything like an explanation.

Could all this brotherly confidence be assumed to blind him as to his real plans?  Why did Gaston inquire into his brother’s past and future, without revealing his own?  Louis’s suspicions were aroused, and he regretted his over-hasty seeking of Gaston.

But his calm, smiling face betrayed none of the anxious thoughts which filled his mind.

He was called upon to praise everything.  First he was taken over the house and servants’ quarters, then to the stable, kennels, and the vast, beautifully laid-out garden.  Across a pretty meadow was the iron-foundery in full operation.  Gaston, with all the enthusiasm of a new proprietor, explained everything, down to the smallest file and hammer.

He detailed all his projects; how he intended substituting wood for coal, and how, besides having plenty to work the forge, he could make immense profits by felling the forest trees, which had hitherto been considered impracticable.  He would cut a hundred cords of wood that year.

Louis approved of everything; but only answered in monosyllables, “Ah, indeed! excellent idea; quite a success.”

His mind was tortured by a new pain; he was paying no attention to Gaston’s remarks, but enviously comparing all this wealth and prosperity with his own poverty.

He found Gaston rich, respected, and happy, enjoying the price of his own labor and industry; whilst he—­Never had he so cruelly felt the misery of his own condition; and he had brought it on himself, which only made it more aggravating.