You own several stores and a
dwelling house in New Orleans, a fine plantation with between two and
three hundred negroes, and I have invested largely for you in stocks of
various kinds both in your own country and in England. I wish you to
examine all the papers, certificates of stock, bonds, deeds, mortgages,
and so forth."
"Oh, papa!" she cried, lifting her hands in dismay, "what a task. Please
excuse me. You know all about it, and is not that sufficient?"
"No, the property is yours; I have been only your steward, and must now
render up an account to you for the way in which I have handled your
property."
"You render an account to _me_, my own dear father," she said low and
tremulously, while her face flushed crimson; "I cannot bear to hear you
speak so. I am fully satisfied, and very, _very_ thankful for all your
kind care of it and of me."
He regarded her with a smile of mingled tenderness and amusement, while
softly patting and stroking the small white hand laid lovingly upon his.
"Could I--could any father--do less for his own beloved child?" he asked.
"Not you, I know, papa. But may I ask you a question?"
"As many as you like."
"How much are you worth? Ah! you needn't look so quizzical. I mean how
much do you own in money, land, etc.
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