"Now, Sir Lionel, I will tell you how the matter is. I know you will never repay me a shilling of this money, and therefore I shall tell Pritchett not to bother himself with sending you any more accounts." "He is a worthy man, and I am sorry he should have had so much trouble." "So am I, very; but that's done. He has had the trouble, and I've paid the money; and, as far as George is concerned, I do not begrudge it." "You would not if you knew what his sentiments are." "I don't care a fig for his sentiments." "His feelings of gratitude to you are very strong." "No, they are not. He is not in the least grateful to me, nor do I wish him to be so. He is an honest lad, with a high spirit, a good heart, and a bad head. Sometimes I have thought of making him my heir." "Ah!" sighed Sir Lionel. "But I have now firmly made up my mind to do no such thing. He has no knowledge of the worth of money. He does not value money." "Oh, there you mistake him; indeed, you do." "He would do no good with it; and, as regards mine, he won't have it." Sir Lionel's face again became very doleful. "But who will have it, George? Whom else have you got to leave it to?" "When I want to consult you on that subject, I'll send for you; just at present I have no wish to do so. And now, if you please, we'll say no more about money." Nothing more was said about money, and very little on any other subject. On what other subject could a pleasant votary of pleasure, such as Sir Lionel, wish to hold conversation with a worn-out old miser from the city? He had regarded his brother as a very full sponge, from which living water might probably be squeezed. But the sponge, it seemed, was no longer squeezable by him in any way. So he left Hadley as quickly as he could, and betook himself to Littlebath with a somewhat saddened heart. He consoled himself, however, by reflecting that an old man's whims are seldom very enduring, and that George might yet become a participator in the huge prize; if not on his own account, at least on that of his wife. Sir Lionel returned to Littlebath, resolving that come what might he would not again have personal recourse to his brother. He had tried his diplomatic powers and had failed--failed in that line on being successful in which he so pre-eminently piqued himself. In Ireland it is said of any man who is more than ordinarily persuasive, that he can "talk the devil out of the liver wing of a turkey!" Sir Lionel had always supposed himself to be gifted with this eloquence; but in that discourse at Hadley, the devil had been too stout for him, and he had gone away without any wing at all--liver or other.