“Why, uncle!” replied Charles, in utter astonishment.

“Yes, you have!” continued the old gentleman, “and I am provoked at you.  I have always intended to make you my heir, but I shall not do it now, at least, not until you consent to wed Ida.”

“Ida does not wish to marry me.”

“She’ll not object, I know she will not.  I have set my heart upon the match, and you must marry her, Charles.”

“I am deeply pained to say so, but I cannot.”

“You must!”

“Nay, then, I will not!”

“Boy! do you wish to drive me to disinherit and disown you?”

“Disinherit me if you will, but I beg you will not disown me.  I have a conscience in this matter; if it was only a whim, I would yield to your wishes.”

“And you utterly refuse to accede to my desires?”

“I do.”

“Well, I am sorry for you, but I am resolved, seeing you care so little for me, to substitute Ida’s name for yours in my will.”

Charles could bear to be treated harshly, but to be accused of want of affection and gratitude toward the benefactor to whom he owed so much, called tears to his eyes.

“You know, uncle, that I love you as I would a father, and it is unjust of you to charge me with a want of affection.”

Mr. Scofield was moved by the evident distress his words had caused in his nephew’s mind, and relenting a very little, he said: 

“I will try you, then; instead of cutting you off at once, I give you a week to consider the matter over; if, in that time, you find you love me well enough to accede to my wishes, well and good; if not, I will surely do as I have said.”

Saying this, he abruptly closed the interview, and left Charles in a state of the deepest distress and sorrow.  His mother tried to persuade him to yield to his uncle’s good pleasure; and, finally, Ida and her mother joined in entreating him not to break all their hearts by suffering himself to be driven from home.  He had most difficulty to overcome Ida’s pleadings, for she told him no fate could be so bad as for him to be sent away, to wander in the world, and die, perhaps, among strangers, with no kind mother, sister or friend to minister to his wants or smooth his dying pillow.

“Spare me, Ida!” he said with emotion.  “You will yet see the day when you will thank me for my firmness.  If I did not think so—­if I could be convinced that you loved me, as every woman’s heart must love some one at some period in life, I would not hesitate to comply with the wishes you all express, and remain on my uncle’s terms.  As it is, I shall go.”

The week expired, and at its close Charles had everything arranged to leave home.  He formally told his uncle of his determination to seek his own fortune, as it was impossible for him to comply with his wishes; but that he did not go in anger.  For his fortune he cared but little, though it was a great grief to be compelled to go from him bearing his ill-will.