I can manage without troubling you to go
to Hadley. Not but what settling the account _will_ make matters
smoother."

Sir Lionel could get nothing more from Mr. Pritchett; but he would
not be put off from his intention, and he did go to Hadley. He found
his brother sitting up in the dining-room, but he would not have
known him. And, indeed, many who had seen him lately might have had
some difficulty in recognizing him. He was not only lean and lank,
and worn and wan, but he spoke with some difficulty, and on close
examination it might be seen that his mouth was twisted as it were
from the centre of his face. Since his relatives had seen him he had
suffered what is genteelly called a slight threatening of paralysis.

But his mind, if touched at all, had recovered itself; and his spirit
was in nowise paralyzed. When Sir Lionel was shown into the room--he
had first of all taken the precaution of sending down his card from
the hotel, and saying that he would call in half an hour--the old man
put out his hand to him, but did not attempt to rise from his chair.
It must be remembered that the brothers had not seen each other for
more than fifteen years.

Sir Lionel had tutored himself carefully as to what he would say and
what do. "George," he said, and the old man shrank as he heard the
unaccustomed name. "When I heard that you were ill, I could not but
come and see you."

"Very good of you, Sir Lionel; very good of you," growled the old
man.

"It is fifteen years since we met, and we are both old men now."

"I am an old man now, and nearly worn out; too old and far gone to
have many wants. You are not in that condition, I suppose."

There was an amount of sarcasm in his voice as he spoke, and in his
eye also as he looked at his brother, which made Sir Lionel perfectly
understand that his rich relative was not specially anxious to be
kind to him.

"Well, we are neither of us quite so far gone as that, I hope--not
quite so far gone as that;" and Sir Lionel looked very pleasant.
"But, speaking for myself, I have not many wants now"--nor had he,
pleasant old man that he was; only three or four comfortable rooms
for himself and his servant; a phaeton and a pair of horses; and
another smaller establishment in a secluded quiet street; nothing
more than that, including of course all that was excellent in the
eating and drinking line--"speaking for myself, I have not many wants
now." And he did look very good-humoured and