“I thought you would like to cherish her memory⁠—I thought⁠—” Dorothea broke off an instant, her imagination suddenly warning her away from Aunt Julia’s history⁠—“you would surely like to have the miniature as a family memorial.”

“Why should I have that, when I have nothing else! A man with only a portmanteau for his stowage must keep his memorials in his head.”

Will spoke at random: he was merely venting his petulance; it was a little too exasperating to have his grandmother’s portrait offered him at that moment. But to Dorothea’s feeling his words had a peculiar sting. She rose and said with a touch of indignation as well as hauteur⁠—

“You are much the happier of us two, Mr. Ladislaw, to have nothing.”