“But there is more--actually more. If Skelton ever tries to prove that Lewis is his son, mark my words, the boy will fight against it--he will fight against it. I can’t make out what he really thinks now, but he clings so hard to his Pryor parentage, he speaks of it so often, he treasures up every little thing that he inherited from the Pryors, that sometimes I fancy he has doubts. He is always anxious to disclaim any authority Skelton asserts over him. The Pryors and Skelton in the beginning, supposing I knew nothing about the boy, agreed in making me the boy’s guardian. Skelton knows that he has me under his thumb--and he has, by George! However, he can’t kick me out of the house, no matter how much he would like to, so long as I am Lewis Pryor’s guardian. But if I were called upon to-morrow in a court of law to say that Lewis is Skelton’s son, I would have no better proof than Skelton’s word; and the Pryors told me dozens of times that the boy was theirs. Pryor was an astute fellow, and, although both he and his wife knew they could not hoodwink me, they were careful never to admit to me that the boy was anything but theirs. You see, if Skelton had tried to get him away in their lifetime, he couldn’t have proved anything by me.” Bulstrode paused for breath and wiped his face. “The boy has eyes like Richard Skelton’s,” said Mrs. Blair, after a pause. “Exactly. But, although he is the same type, and one would use the same terms in describing Skelton and Lewis, they are not personally very much alike except their eyes. Strange to say, Lewis is not unlike Mrs. Pryor, who was a dark, slight woman. She always fancied him to be like a child she lost, and that was one reason she became so devoted to him. But to see Skelton and Lewis together in the same house--haw! haw!” Bulstrode broke into a great, nervous laugh. “_Then_ you’d know they were father and son. To see that little shaver stand up straight and eye the great Mr. Skelton as coolly as you please--odd’s my life, madam, the brat is a gentleman, if I ever saw one! You ought to see the positive air with which he disclaims any relationship to Skelton when strangers have asked him about it. That, too, makes me suspect that he dreads something of the sort. It would be more natural if he should show a boyish desire to be related to Skelton and to share his consequence. He has a few books of Pryor’s and a few trinkets of Mrs. Pryor’s, and I don’t believe all Skelton’s money could buy those trifling things from him. But this haughty, naturally self-respecting spirit of the boy only makes Skelton love him the more. I have predicted to Skelton that the boy will hate him forever if any disclosure is made about his birth. And Skelton dreads it, too. So you see, madam, in spite of all he can do--and he will do all that mortal man can do--you and yours may yet be rich through Skelton.”