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.
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