"But you told me he left no will," said Septimus wonderingly; "and I am his only child." The doctor smiled compassionately upon his nephew, with the air of a man removing a leg or an arm. "There, for goodness' sake don't go on torturing the poor fellow in that way!" cried downright Mrs Hardon. "Why don't you speak out? You see, Septimus--" "I beg that you will be silent, Mrs Hardon," exclaimed the doctor. "I shall be nothing of the kind," cried Mrs Hardon. "The poor man has enough to suffer as it is, without being grilled over a slow fire." Septimus gazed from uncle to aunt in a strange bewildered way, prepared for some new shock, but unable to comprehend what blow Fate meant to deal him now. "You see, Septimus," continued Mrs Hardon, without heeding her husband's uplifted hands,--"you see the property comes to my husband as next of kin." "Nonsense!" exclaimed Septimus, as if relieved that his aunt's communication was of no more weight. "I am the only child, and besides, _I_ have a son." "Now just see what a painful scene you have brought about," whined the doctor, reproachfully eyeing his wife. "Indeed," interrupted Septimus, "I am sorry that the matter should be discussed, for it appears unseemly at such a time: before my poor father's remains are beneath the earth." "If you would only have been silent," continued the doctor, not heeding the interruption.--"Now pray, my good sir," he said, turning to Septimus, "go to Messrs. Keening and Keening, my solicitors, and--" "Tell me what it all means, aunt, or I shall go mad!" cried Septimus, catching Mrs Hardon's hand in both of his, and gazing imploringly in her face. "Well, the plain truth of the matter is this," said Mrs Hardon-- "Pray be silent, Mrs Hardon," said the doctor. "My solicitors--" "You were not born in wedlock," said Mrs Hardon. "Who dares say that is true?" shouted Septimus, with eyes flashing; "who dares speak in that way of my poor mother?" he exclaimed. "It's a lie-- a base lie!" and in spite of Septimus Hardon's plainness, his years, the dust and shabby clothing, there was in him a nobleness of aspect that made the doctor look mean by comparison, as he stood there furiously eyeing both in turn, and thinking then no more of his father's money than if it had been so much dirt beneath his feet. That such an aspersion should be cast upon the fame of the mother whose memory he tenderly loved seemed to him monstrous; and it was well for Doctor Hardon that he did not think it necessary to answer the sternly-put question; for most assuredly, had he replied, Septimus would have taken him by the throat. "I'm sure _I_ don't know," said Mrs Hardon. "All I know is, that it's very sad, and I'm very, very sorry for you."