Sewell moved out into the avenue, and, whistling carelessly to announce his approach, walked up to where she was sitting. “Romantic, certainly!” said he. “Whose carriage was that I met driving out?” “Dr. Beattie's. He has been here to see Sir William.” “Will he die this time, or is it only another false start?” “He is seriously ill. Some news he received from his son gave him a severe shock, and brought on one of his worst attacks. He has been raving since six o'clock.” “I should like to know when he has done anything else. I should like to see the man who ever heard from his lips other than the wildest, crudest nonsense. The question is, is he going to die?” “Beattie's opinion is very unfavorable.” “Unfavorable! To whom? To _him_ or to _us?_” “His death could scarcely be favorable to us.” “That 's as it might be. We stand to win on one or two of these twenty wills he has made; and if he should recover and live on, I don't think--indeed I 'm full sure--I couldn't bear it much longer; so that, take it either way, I'd rather he'd die.” “Beattie wishes his granddaughter were here.” “Well, send for her. Though, if he is as ill as you say, it won't be of much use.” “He has come through so many of these attacks, and has such great power of constitution, the doctor still thinks he might rally.” “And so he will, I'll be sworn. There's a vitality in those people who plague and torment others that ought to get insurance offices to take them at half premium. Has he asked for _me?_” “Only in his ravings. He rang his bell violently, and inquired if you had been at the prison, and asked what tidings you had brought him; and then he went off to say that all this Celt affair was no rebellion at all, and that he would prove it. Then he talked of quitting the Bench and putting on his stuff gown to defend these men against the Government.” “Sick or well, sane or insane, it's always the same story. His only theme is himself.” “Beattie was struck with the profound things and the witty things he said throughout all his rambling. He said that the intellect was never actually overthrown, that it only tottered.” “What rot! as if he knew anything about it! These fellows talk of a man's brain as if it was the ankle-joint. Was there any question of a will?” “Yes. He made Beattie take a will out of his writing-desk; and he erased the name of Lendrick in every part of it. Beattie and he had some angry words together, but that was before he was raving; and I heard Sir William tell him, 'Sir, you are neither my priest nor my lawyer; and if your skill as a doctor be only on a par with your tact as a friend, my recovery is all but hopeless.'” “That probably was one of the profound or witty things the doctor was so delighted with.” “Dr. Beattie took nothing addressed to himself in ill part.” “No; that's part of medical education. These fellows begin life as such 'cads,' they never attain to the feeling of being gentlemen.”