your wishes. Your kinsman, Sir
Reginald Wychecombe, is also present, and desirous of doing your
pleasure."

It was a painful sight to see a man on his death-bed, so anxious to
discharge the forms of the world, as the master of the Hall now appeared
to be. There had been an unnecessary alienation between the heads of the
two branches of the family; not arising from any quarrel, or positive
cause of disagreement, but from a silent conviction in both parties,
that each was unsuited to the other. They had met a few times, and
always parted without regret. The case was now different; the separation
was, in one sense at least, to be eternal; and all minor considerations,
all caprices of habits or despotism of tastes, faded before the solemn
impressions of the moment. Still, Sir Wycherly could not forget that he
was master of Wychecombe, and that his namesake was esteemed a man of
refinement; and, in his simple way of thinking he would fain have
arisen, in order to do him honour. A little gentle violence, even, was
necessary to keep the patient quiet.

"Much honoured, sir--greatly pleased," muttered Sir Wycherly, the
words coming from him with difficulty. "Same ancestors--same
name--Plantagenets--old house, sir--head go, new one come--none better,
than--"

"Do not distress yourself to speak, unnecessarily, my dear sir,"
interrupted Sir Reginald, with more tenderness for the patient than
consideration for his own interest, as the next words promised to relate
to the succession. "Sir Gervaise Oakes tells me, he understands your
wishes, generally, and that he is now prepared to gratify them. First
relieve your mind, in matters of business; and, then, I shall be most
happy to exchange with you the feelings of kindred."

"Yes, Sir Wycherly," put in Sir Gervaise, on this hint; "I believe I
have now found the clue to all you wish to say. The few words written by
you, last night, were the commencement of a will, which it is your
strong desire to make. Do not speak, but raise your right hand, if I am
not mistaken."

The sick man actually stretched his right arm above the bed-clothes, and
his dull eyes lighted with an expression of pleasure, that proved how
strongly his feelings were enlisted in the result.

"You see, gentlemen!" said Sir Gervaise, with emphasis. "No one can
mistake the meaning of this! Come nearer, doctor--Mr. Rotherham--all who
have no probable interest in the affair--I wish it to be seen that Sir
Wycherly Wyc