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"To be sure there is. Nobody knows that better than you," said Will, with light gallantry, but inwardly prepared to be angry. "It is really the most charming romance: Mr. Casaubon jealous, and foreseeing that there was no one else whom Mrs. Casaubon would so much like to marry, and no one who would so much like to marry her as a certain gentleman; and then laying a plan to spoil all by making her forfeit her property if she did marry that gentleman-- and then--and then--and then--oh, I have no doubt the end will be thoroughly romantic." "Great God! what do you mean?" said Will, flushing over face and ears, his features seeming to change as if he had had a violent shake. "Don't joke; tell me what you mean." "You don't really know?" said Rosamond, no longer playful, and desiring nothing better than to tell in order that she might evoke effects. "No!" he returned, impatiently. "Don't know that Mr. Casaubon has left it in his will that if Mrs. Casaubon marries you she is to forfeit all her property?" "How do you know that it is true?" said Will, eagerly. "My brother Fred heard it from the Farebrothers." Will started up from his chair and reached his hat. "I dare say she likes you better than the property," said Rosamond, looking at him from a distance. "Pray don't say any more about it," said Will, in a hoarse undertone extremely unlike his usual light voice. "It is a foul insult to her and to me." Then he sat down absently, looking before him, but seeing nothing. "Now you are angry with _me_," said Rosamond. "It is too bad to bear _me_ malice. You ought to be obliged to me for telling you."