Mrs. Tresslyn was furious. She had been cheated, and Anne had been cheated. The old wretch had played a trick on all of them! He had bought Anne for two millions, and now _nothing_,—absolutely _nothing_ was to go to Charity! Braden was seven times a millionaire instead of a poor but ambitious seeker after fame! In the few minutes that followed Judge Hollenback's cough, she had time to restore her equanimity to its habitual elevation. It had, for once, stooped perilously near to catastrophe. Meanwhile, her son George had arrived at a conclusion. He arose from his chair with a wry face and a half uttered groan, and crossed over to Braden's side. Strange, fierce pains were shooting through all the joints and muscles of his body. "See here, Brady, I'd like to ask a question, if you don't mind." "I don't mind. What is it?" "Would you have operated on Mr. Thorpe if you'd known what was in this will?" Braden hesitated, but only for a second. "Yes. My grandfather asked me to operate. There was nothing else for me to do under the circumstances." "That's just what I thought. Well, all I've got to say is that so long as you respected his wishes while he was alive it seems pretty rotten in you to take the stand you're taking now." "What do you mean?" "He virtually asked you to make an end of him. You both knew there was no chance. You operated and he died. I'm speaking plainly, you see. No one blames you. You did your best. But it seems to me that if you could do what he asked you to do at that time, you ought to do what he asks of you now. As long as you were willing to respect his last wish alive, you ought not to stir up a rumpus over his first wish dead." The two men were looking hard into each other's eyes. George's voice shook a little, but not from fear or nervousness. He was shivering with the chill that precedes fever. Anne drew a step or two nearer. She laid an appealing hand on George's arm. "I think I understand you, George," said Thorpe slowly. "You are telling me that you believe I took my grandfather's life by design. You—" "No," said George quietly, "I'm not saying that, Brady. I'm saying that you owe as much to him now as you did when he was alive. If you had not consented to operate, this will would never have been drawn. If you had refused, the first will would have been read to-day. I guess you are entirely responsible for the making of this new will, and that's why I say you ought to be man enough to stand by your work." Thorpe turned away. His face was very white and his hands were clenched. Anne shook her brother's arm. "Why,—oh, why did you say that to him, George? Why—" "Because it ought to have been said to him," said George coolly; "that's why. He made old Mr. Thorpe see things from his point of view, and it's up to him to shoulder the responsibility."