settled before we have done with it, as you'll find when you hear what I have to tell you.'
'What you have to tell me!' said Sir Roger, sitting up in bed, 'and what have you to tell me?'
'Your will says your sister's eldest child.'
'Yes; but that's only in the event of Louis Philippe dying before he is twenty-five.'
'Exactly; and now I know something about your sister's eldest child, and, therefore, I have come to tell you.'
'You know something about Mary's eldest child?'
'I do, Scatcherd; it is a strange story, and maybe it will make you angry. I cannot help it if it does so. I should not tell you this if I could avoid it; but as I do tell you, for your sake, as you will see, and not for my own, I must implore you not to tell my secret to others.'
Sir Roger now looked at him with an altered countenance. There was something in his voice of the authoritative tone of other days, something in the doctor's look which had on the baronet the same effect which in former days it had sometimes had on the stonemason.
'Can you give me a promise, Scatcherd, that what I tell you shall not be repeated?'
'A promise! Well, I don't know what it's about, you know. I don't like promises in the dark.'
'Then I must leave it to your honour; for what I have to say must be said. You remember my brother, Scatcherd?'
Remember his brother! thought the rich man to himself. The name of the doctor's brother had not been alluded to between them since the days of that trial; but still it was impossible but that Scatcherd should well remember him.
'Yes, yes; certainly. I remember your brother,' said he. 'I remember him well; there's no doubt about that.'
'Well, Scatcherd,' and, as he spoke, the doctor laid his hand with kindness on the other's arm, 'Mary's eldest child was my brother's child as well.'
'But there is no such child living,' said Sir Roger; and, in his violence, as he spoke he threw from off him the bedclothes, and tried to stand upon the floor. He found, however, that he had no strength for such an effort, and was obliged to remain leaning on the bed and resting on the doctor's arm.
'There was no such child ever lived,' said he. 'What do you mean by this?'
Dr. Thorne would say nothing further till he had got the man into bed again. This he at last effected, and then went on with the story in his own way.
