, doctor. It can do no harm now; you know that well
enough. Why torture me now?"

"No, I will not torture you; but you will have water with it?"

"Water! No; the brandy by itself. I tell you I cannot speak without
it. What's the use of canting now? You know it can make no
difference."

Sir Roger was right. It could make no difference; and Dr Thorne gave
him the half glass of brandy.

"Ah, well; you've a stingy hand, doctor; confounded stingy. You don't
measure your medicines out in such light doses."

"You will be wanting more before morning, you know."

"Before morning! indeed I shall; a pint or so before that. I remember
the time, doctor, when I have drunk to my own cheek above two quarts
between dinner and breakfast! aye, and worked all the day after it!"

"You have been a wonderful man, Scatcherd, very wonderful."

"Aye, wonderful! well, never mind. It's over now. But what was I
saying?--about Louis, doctor; you'll not desert him?"

"Certainly not."

"He's not strong; I know that. How should he be strong, living as he
has done? Not that it seemed to hurt me when I was his age."

"You had the advantage of hard work."

"That's it. Sometimes I wish that Louis had not a shilling in the
world; that he had to trudge about with an apron round his waist as I
did. But it's too late now to think of that. If he would only marry,
doctor."

Dr Thorne again expressed an opinion that no step would be so likely
to reform the habits of the young heir as marriage; and repeated his
advice to the father to implore his son to take a wife.

"I'll tell you what, Thorne," said he. And then, after a pause, he
went on. "I have not half told you as yet what is on my mind; and I'm
nearly afraid to tell it; though, indeed, I don't know why I should
be."

"I never knew you afraid of anything yet," said the doctor, smiling
gently.

"Well, then, I'll not end by turning coward. Now, doctor, tell the
truth to me; what do you expect me to do for that girl of yours that
we were talking of--Mary's child?"

There was a pause for a moment, for Thorne was slow to answer him.

"You would not let me see her, you know, though she is my niece as
truly as she is yours."

"Nothing," at last said the doctor, slowly. "I expect nothing. I
would not let you see her, and therefore, I expect nothing."

"She will have it all if poor Louis should die," said Sir Roger.

"If you intend it so you should put her name into the will," said the
oth