, what would they live on? If they were to marry, what
would they do? Where would they go? You know what Lady Arabella
thinks of such things; would it be possible that they should live up
at the house with her? Besides, what a life would that be for both of
them! Could they live here? Would that be well for them?"

The squire looked at the doctor for an answer; but he still went on
rubbing his calf. Mr Gresham, therefore, was constrained to continue
his expostulation.

"When I am dead there will still, I hope, be something;--something
left for the poor fellow. Lady Arabella and the girls would be better
off, perhaps, than now, and I sometimes wish, for Frank's sake, that
the time had come."

The doctor could not now go on rubbing his leg. He was moved to
speak, and declared that, of all events, that was the one which would
be furthest from Frank's heart. "I know no son," said he, "who loves
his father more dearly than he does."

"I do believe it," said the squire; "I do believe it. But yet, I
cannot but feel that I am in his way."

"No, squire, no; you are in no one's way. You will find yourself
happy with your son yet, and proud of him. And proud of his wife,
too. I hope so, and I think so: I do, indeed, or I should not say so,
squire; we will have many a happy day yet together, when we shall
talk of all these things over the dining-room fire at Greshamsbury."

The squire felt it kind in the doctor that he should thus endeavour
to comfort him; but he could not understand, and did not inquire, on
what basis these golden hopes was founded. It was necessary, however,
to return to the subject which he had come to discuss. Would the
doctor assist him in preventing this marriage? That was now the one
thing necessary to be kept in view.

"But, doctor, about the young people; of course they cannot marry,
you are aware of that."

"I don't know that exactly."

"Well, doctor, I must say I thought you would feel it."

"Feel what, squire?"

"That, situated as they are, they ought not to marry."

"That is quite another question. I have said nothing about that
either to you or to anybody else. The truth is, squire, I have never
interfered in this matter one way or the other; and I have no wish to
do so now."

"But should you not interfere? Is not Mary the same to you as your
own child?"

Dr Thorne hardly knew how to answer this. He was aware that his
argument about not interfering was in fact absurd. Mary could not