“It was a strange will, and unjust as strange,” said George. “Why should our father have feared to trust my intellect more than yours, Louis? If at thirty I have never given proofs of insanity, and am the father of a lawful son, then and not till then can I demand an equal share of the property with yourself. This is a strange clause against an elder son, who has never offended him, or deserved anything but kindness at his hands.” “It is indeed. The anxieties of his death-bed must have arisen from this cause. But it was all needless; for though I had a hard struggle to get my portion from Madame at the time of my majority, it is safe from her control now, and the income is enough for us both.” George reached forth his hand, grasping that of his brother with grateful warmth. “You forget,” he said, pointing to his portmanteau, “that I am just from the gold region, and though not able to compete with my rich brother, there will be found yonder enough of gold and bills of exchange for my moderate wants, till the time appointed by my father’s will arrives.” “Are you so rich as that, George? I am glad of it; independence is the right of every man, but I should have liked to divide with you, after all.” “I am sure you would, dear old fellow; but the time is not far off, and I think it will go hard for any one to give proofs of insanity against me so far; and if my brain has withstood all that I have endured till now, it will probably hold firm to the end.” “Yes, that will be easily settled. But the babe? Poor Catharine Lacy left no living child, so it is stated in the hospital record.” “So it is recorded; poor girl! poor wronged wife!” “She was a lovely creature,” said Louis, “a sweet, gentle girl. How was she driven to such straits, George?” “It is answered in a sentence,” was the stern reply. “Madame De Marke, who had doubtless suspicions of our private marriage, induced me to go to India, by promises of giving a portion of my inheritance into my own independent possession. She had entire control, even of the income, you know. In his large shipping-interest, my father had left unsettled affairs at Calcutta, which she professed to be very anxious about. I was to remain abroad two years and settle up all his affairs in the East, as the price of my own independence. I had just married Catharine Lacy, who urged me to make this sacrifice, and expressed herself willing to stay with Madame, hard as her life was, until my return. “If Madame knew of our marriage, her dissimulation was complete, for she gave no sign of such knowledge. I now understand it all. She either had information of the marriage and wished to separate us, or had a suspicion that the poor child was devoted to me, and that by marrying her, one condition of the will might be secured.” “It is possible,” muttered Louis.