," said the other. This he did, and
was preparing to return, when his uncle called him. "Do not go away,
George," said he. "Sir Henry will want you to show him down again."
And so they stood together at the bedside.

"Well, Sir Henry, this is kind of you," said he, putting his thin,
bony hand out upon the coverlid, by way of making an attempt at an
Englishman's usual greeting.

Sir Henry took it gently in his, and found it cold and clammy. "It is
nearly all over now, Sir Henry," said the old man.

"I hope not," said the visitor, with the tone usual on such
occasions. "You may rally yet, Mr. Bertram."

"Rally!" And there was something in the old man's voice that faintly
recalled the bitter railing sound of other days. "No; I don't suppose
I shall ever rally much more."

"Well; we can only hope for the best. That's what I do, I can assure
you."

"That is true. We do hope for the best--all of us. I can still do
that, if I do nothing else."

"Of course," said Sir Henry. And then he stood still for a while,
meditating how best he might make use of his present opportunity.
What could he say to secure some fraction of the hundreds of
thousands which belonged to the dying man? That he had a right to at
least a moiety of them his inmost bosom told him; but how should he
now plead his rights? Perhaps after all it would have been as well
for him to have remained in London.

"Mr. Bertram," at last he said, "I hope you won't think it unbecoming
in me if I say one word about business in your present state?"

"No--no--no," said the old man. "I can't do much, as you see; but
I'll endeavour to listen."

"You can't be surprised that I should be anxious about my wife."

"Umph!" said Mr. Bertram. "You haven't treated her very well, it
seems."

"Who says so?"

"A woman wouldn't leave a fine house in London, to shut herself up
with a sick old man here, if she were well treated. I don't want any
one to tell me that."

"I can hardly explain all this to you now, sir; particularly--"

"Particularly as I am dying. No, you cannot. George, give me a glass
of that stuff. I am very weak, Sir Henry, and can't say much more to
you."

"May I ask you this one question, sir? Have you provided for your
granddaughter?"

"Provided for her!" and the old man made a sadly futile attempt to
utter the words with that ominous shriek which a few years since
would have been sure to frighten any man who would have asked such a
question. "What