eldest to
have them. He is a spendthrift. They are all for Ralph, who is a steady
fellow, and going to marry a nice girl--at least, I suppose she is a
nice girl. Girls who are going to be married always _are_ nice. Those
jewels will sweeten matrimony for Mr. Ralph, and if she is like other
women it will need sweetening. There, now you have got them, and that is
what you have got to do with them. There is the address written on this
card. With my compliments, you perceive. He! he! I don't suppose they
will remember who I am."

"Have you no relations?" I asked; for I am always strongly of opinion
that property should be bequeathed to relatives, especially near
relatives, rather than to entire strangers.

"None," he replied, "not even poor relations. I have no deserving
nephew or Scotch cousin. If I had, they would be here at this moment
smoothing the pillow of the departing saint, and wondering how much they
would get. You may make your mind easy on that score."

"Then who is this Ralph whom you have never seen, and to whom you are
leaving so much?" I asked, with my usual desire for information.

He glared at me for a moment, and then he turned his face away.

"D----n it! What does it matter, now I'm dying?" he said. And then he
added, hoarsely, "I knew his mother."

I could not speak, but involuntarily I put out my hand and took his
leaden one and held it. He scowled at me, and then the words came out,
as if in spite of himself--

"She--if she had married me, who knows what might--But she married
Danvers. She called her second son Ralph. My first name is Ralph." Then,
with a sudden change of tone, pulling away his hand, "There! now you
know all about it! Edifying, isn't it? These death-bed scenes always
have an element of interest, haven't they? _Good_-evening"--ringing the
bell at his elbow--"I can't say I hope we shall meet again. It would be
impolite. No, don't let me keep you. Good-bye again."

"Good-bye, Sir John," I said, taking his impatient hand and shaking it
gently; "God bless you."

"Thankee," grinned the old man, with a sardonic chuckle; "if anything
could do me good that will, I'm sure. Good-bye."

* * * * *

As I breakfasted next morning, previously to my departure, I could not
help reflecting on the different position in which I was now returning
to England, as a colonel on long leave, to that in which I had left it
many--I do not care to think how many--years a