"Well, so do I," said Cuthbert, frankly. "On all moral and religious grounds, I think you are as much bound as ever you were. And if Miss Adair refused you on those grounds, she has more right on her side than I thought." "Ah, but she did not," answered Wyvis, dryly. "She refused me because I was not rich, not 'in society,' and a ploughman's son." "That's bad," said his brother. And then the two sat for a little time in silence, which is the way of Englishmen when one wishes to show sympathy for another. "But we are not approaching what I want to say at all," said Cuthbert, presently. "We must not let our feelings run away with us. We are both in a very awkward position, old boy, but we shan't make it better by publishing it to the world. If you throw up the place in this absurd fashion--excuse the term--you _will_ publish it to the world at large." "Do you think that matters to me?" asked Wyvis, sternly. "Perhaps not to you. But it matters to mother, and to me. And it affects our father's character." "Your father's, not mine." "He was the only father you ever knew, and you have no reason to find fault with him." Wyvis groaned impatiently. "One has duties to the living, not to the dead." "One has duties to the dead, too. You can't give up the Red House to me--even if I would take it, which I won't--without having the whole story made public. My father hasn't a very good reputation in the County: people will think no better of him for having lamed me, disinherited me, and practiced a fraud on them. That's what they will say about the affair, you know. We can't let the world know." "Then I'd better go and shoot myself. It seems to me the only thing I can do." "And what about Julian? The estate would pass to him, of course," said Cuthbert, coolly. He saw that Wyvis' face changed a little at the mention of Julian's name. "No, I could will it to you--make it over to you, with the condition that it should go to the Foundling Hospital if you wouldn't accept it." "I think that a will of that kind could be easily set aside on the ground of insanity," said Cuthbert, with a slight smile. "I could find a way out of the difficulty, if I tried, I have no doubt," said Wyvis, frowning gloomily and pulling at his moustache. "_Don't_ try," said his brother, leaning forward and speaking persuasively. "Let things continue much as they are. I am content: Nora is content. Why should you not be so, too?" Then, as Wyvis shook his head: "Make your mind easy then if you must do something, by giving me a sum down, or a slice of your income, old man. Upon my word I wouldn't live in the old place if you gave it to me. It is picturesque--but damp. Come let's compromise matters." "I love every stick and stone in the place," said Wyvis grimly.