“I am not going to do anything of the kind. I am only going to remind you that, as you never in your life did a generous thing for me, or stepped aside from your own interest or your own pleasure by so much as a hair’s breadth to serve me, it wasn’t very likely that I should get myself into a legal hobble--that mock marriage would have been something like felony, I should imagine--and inflict a cruel wrong upon an innocent little girl to oblige you. I didn’t want to be too disobliging, so I arranged a marriage, but it was a real and not a sham one; and you are as tightly tied to your pretty little wife as if the business had been transacted at St. George’s, Hanover Square, by a popular bishop, assisted by an aristocratic uncle to the bride.” “You are a remorseless scoundrel!” exclaimed Mr. Lowther, coolly. “And I am very happy to tell you that your own pretty little plans are knocked on the head. Francis Tredethlyn did not sail in the _Kingfisher_!” Harcourt gave a little start of surprise; but his countenance did not express the profound vexation and disappointment that his brother had expected to see in it. The schemer had failed so completely, that it mattered very little to him now what course events took. “Yes, Francis Tredethlyn is alive and well, I have no doubt,” resumed Roderick. “And my little Susy turns out to be Francis Tredethlyn’s first cousin. I have a recollection of her telling me, after our marriage, that her real name was something outlandish, of a Cornish character; but the name had slipped my memory completely before I met your wealthy Cornishman.” “Then the likeness which I fancied I saw in that daub of a portrait and the similarity of name were not mere coincidences, after all,” muttered Harcourt. “And the lady at Petersham is my little sister-in-law. It’s a pity you didn’t treat her rather better,” he added; “for Francis Tredethlyn could afford to give her a handsome fortune, if he pleased. It is from her father he inherits his money; and if you had declared your marriage, and made things square with the old man, your wife need not have been disinherited, and would have been as rich a prize as any Miss Grunderson.” “Hold your tongue!” cried Roderick; “I know what I have lost as well as you do. If you had been above-board with me, and told me that you had sold me about the marriage, I might have acted differently. Why did you get me into such a mess?” “Because I didn’t choose to be your catspaw. I have been sacrificed to your interests all my life, and I was determined to keep my hold upon you when I had got it.” “And you would have allowed me to marry Rosa Grunderson?”