but that's as may be."

"The chances are ten to one that such a clause in your will will
never come to bear."

"Quite so, quite so. If I die, Louis Philippe won't; but I thought it
right to put in something to prevent his squandering it all before he
comes to his senses."

"Oh! quite right, quite right. I think I would have named a later age
than twenty-five."

"So would not I. Louis Philippe will be all right by that time.
That's my lookout. And now, doctor, you know my will; and if I die
to-morrow, you will know what I want you to do for me."

"You have merely said the eldest child, Scatcherd?"

"That's all; give it here, and I'll read it to you."

"No, no; never mind. The eldest child! You should be more particular,
Scatcherd; you should, indeed. Consider what an enormous interest may
have to depend on those words."

"Why, what the devil could I say? I don't know their names; never
even heard them. But the eldest is the eldest, all the world over.
Perhaps I ought to say the youngest, seeing that I am only a railway
contractor."

Scatcherd began to think that the doctor might now as well go away
and leave him to the society of Winterbones and the brandy; but, much
as our friend had before expressed himself in a hurry, he now seemed
inclined to move very leisurely. He sat there by the bedside, resting
his hands on his knees and gazing unconsciously at the counterpane.
At last he gave a deep sigh, and then he said, "Scatcherd, you must
be more particular in this. If I am to have anything to do with it,
you must, indeed, be more explicit."

"Why, how the deuce can I be more explicit? Isn't her eldest living
child plain enough, whether he be Jack, or she be Gill?"

"What did your lawyer say to this, Scatcherd?"

"Lawyer! You don't suppose I let my lawyer know what I was putting.
No; I got the form and the paper, and all that from him, and had him
here, in one room, while Winterbones and I did it in another. It's
all right enough. Though Winterbones wrote it, he did it in such a
way he did not know what he was writing."

The doctor sat a while longer, still looking at the counterpane,
and then got up to depart. "I'll see you again soon," said he;
"to-morrow, probably."

"To-morrow!" said Sir Roger, not at all understanding why Dr Thorne
should talk of returning so soon. "To-morrow! why I ain't so bad as
that, man, am I? If you come so often as that you'll ruin me."

"Oh, not as a medical man; not as th