‘Well,’ the old man observed with wandering irrelevance, ‘it can’t be said that my death will make much difference in your mother’s life.’

‘It will probably make more than you think.’

‘Well, she’ll have more money,’ said Mr Touchett. ‘I’ve left her a good wife’s portion, just as if she had been a good wife.’

‘She has been one, daddy, according to her own theory. She has never troubled you.’

‘Ah, some troubles are pleasant,’ Mr Touchett murmured. “Those you’ve given me for instance. But your mother has been less — less — what shall I call it? less out of the way since I’ve been ill. I presume she knows I’ve noticed it.’

‘I shall certainly tell her so; I’m so glad you mention it.’

‘It won’t make any difference to her; she doesn’t do it to please me. She does it to please — to please —’ And he lay a while trying to think why she did it. ‘She does it because it suits her. But that’s not what I want to talk about,’ he added. ‘It’s about you. You'll be very well off.'