you, and very complaisant of her. But what if
I say that I don't choose that she should have any such brother?
Perhaps you think that as I am only her husband, I ought not to have
any voice in the matter?"

"I do not suppose that you can care for her much, after the word you
once used to her."

"And what the devil is it to you what word I used to her? That's the
tack you go on, is it? Now, I'll tell you fairly what I shall do.
I will wait till the breath is out of that old man's body, and
then I shall take my wife out of this house--by force, if force be
necessary." And so saying, Sir Henry turned to the front door, and
took his departure, without making any further adieu.

"What dreadful trouble we shall have!" whimpered Miss Baker, almost
in tears.

Things went on at Hadley for three days longer without any change,
except that Mr. Bertram became weaker, and less inclined to speak. On
the third morning, he did say a few words:--"George, I begin to think
I have done wrong about you; but I fear it is too late."

His nephew declared that he was sure that things would turn out well,
muttering any platitude which might quiet the dying man.

"But it is too late, isn't it?"

"For any change in your will, sir? Yes, it is too late. Do not think
of it."

"Ah, yes; it would be very troublesome--very troublesome. Oh, me! It
has nearly come now, George; very nearly."

It had very nearly come. He did not again speak intelligibly to any
of them. In his last hours he suffered considerably, and his own
thoughts seemed to irritate him. But when he did mutter a few words,
they seemed to refer to trivial matters--little plagues which dying
men feel as keenly as those who are full of life. To the last he
preferred George either to his niece or to his granddaughter; and
was always best pleased when his nephew was by him. Once or twice he
mentioned Mr. Pritchett's name; but he showed his dissent when they
proposed to send for his man of business.

On the afternoon of that day, he breathed his last in the presence of
his three relatives. His nearest relative, indeed, was not there; nor
did they dare to send for him. He had latterly expressed so strong
a disgust at the very name of Sir Lionel, that they had ceased by
common consent to mention Bertram's father. He seemed to be aware
that his last moments were approaching, for he would every now and
then raise his withered hand from off the bed, as though to give them
warning. And