He might now show McLean that it was not want of money that had made him hitherto shy of "the good investments" offered him.

He had been sure McLean in their last interview had thought so, and had, indeed, felt the half-veiled contempt with which the rich young man had expressed his pity for Mostyn's inability to take advantage at the right moment of an exceptional chance to play the game of beggaring his neighbor.

Now, he told himself, he would show McLean and his braggart set that good birth and old family was for once allied with plenty of money, and he also promised his wounded sensibilities some very desirable reprisals, every one of which he felt fully competent to take.
It was, after all, a poor compensation, but there was also the gold.

He thanked his father that day for the great thoughtfulness and care with which he had amassed this sum for him, and he tried to console himself with the belief that gold answered all purposes, and that the yellow metal was a better possession than the house and lands which he had longed for with an inherited and insensate craving.
Two days after this event Ethel, at her father's direction, signed a number of papers, and when that duty was completed, the Squire rose from his chair, kissed her hands and her cheeks, and in a voice full of tenderness and pride said, "I pay my respects to the future lady of Rawdon Manor, and I thank God for permitting me to see this hour.

Most welcome, Lady Ethel, to the rights you inherit, and the rights you have bought." It was a moment hardly likely to be duplicated in any life, and Ethel escaped from its tense emotions as soon as possible.