“You must use all your influence with my father in my interests, and use it discreetly and perseveringly,” he whispered.

“But I have no influence.  Never was the young wife of an old man—­and I am young in comparison to him—­treated so harshly.  I am not his pet; I am his slave!” she complained.

“But you must obtain influence over him.  You can do that.  You are with him night and day when he is not at his business.  You are his shadow—­beg pardon, I ought to have said his sunshine.”

“I am his slave, I tell you.”

“Then be his humble, submissive, obedient slave; betray no disappointment, discontent, or impatience at your lot.  The harsher he is, the humbler must you be; the more despotic he becomes, the more subservient you must seem.  Make yourself so perfectly complying in all his moods that he shall believe you to be the very ’perfect rose of womanhood,’ more excellent even than he thought when he married you, and so as he grows older and weaker in mind as well as body you will gain not only influence but ascendency over him, and these you must use in my interest.”

“But how?  I don’t understand.”

“Pay attention, then, and you will understand Mr. Rockharrt is aged.  In the course of nature he must soon pass away.  Fie has made no will.  Should he die intestate, the whole property, by the laws of this commonwealth, would fall to pieces; that is to say, it would be divided into three parts—­one-third would go to you—­”

Rose started, caught her breath, and stared at the speaker; the greed of gain dilating her great blue eyes.  The third of the Rockharrt’s fabulous wealth to be hers at her husband’s death!  Amazing!  How many millions or tens of millions would that be?  Incredible!  And all for her, and she with, perhaps, half a century of life to live and enjoy it!  What a vista!

“Why do you stare at me so?” demanded Mr. Fabian.

“Because I was so surprised.  That is not the law in England.  In England there are usually what are called marriage settlements, which make a suitable provision for the wife, but leave the bulk of the property to go to the children—­generally to the oldest son.”

“And such should be the law here, but it isn’t; and so if my father should die without having made a will, the great estate would break, as I said, into three parts—­one part would be yours, the other two parts would be divided into three shares, to me, to my brother, and to the heirs of my sister.  The business at North End would probably be carried on by Aaron Rockharrt’s sons.”

“But would not that be equitable?” inquired Rose, who had no mind to have her third interfered with.

“It would not be expedient, nor is such a disposition of his property the intention of Aaron Rockharrt.  I know, from what he has occasionally hinted, that he means to bequeath the Great North End Works to me and my brother Clarence, share and share alike; but he puts off making this will, which indeed must never be made.  The North End Works should not be a monster with two heads, but a colossus with one head with my head.  So that I wish my father to make a will leaving the North End Works to me exclusively—­to me alone as the one head.”