The mother and daughter looked at each other. They were under no difficulty in understanding. “Oh,” said Mrs. Hill, “her worst enemy! Do you mean to say that after all my poor child has borne from that woman----” “Dear mother!” said Agnes. “Oh, let us wait a little--let us do nothing in a hurry. I suppose it has been known before that a poor woman might be sane enough with one delusion. That is Mary’s case. She is sane, but she has forgotten. She never saw her baby. It seized her at once, that terrible trouble. She never knew. Don’t you remember, mother, how she lay like a log, never caring, never looking at him. Oh, Mr. Blotting, don’t let her be sent away again for that! In every other way she is sane, my poor sister is sane.” “I am sincerely sorry for you, Miss Hill,” the lawyer said. But he gave no pledge, he made no promise. “It will depend chiefly upon John Parke,” he said, “as one of the executors, and the child’s uncle. He of course is the natural guardian. And he no doubt will hear what the doctors have to say, and decide what is best to be done with Lady Frogmore.” “John Parke!” both the old people cried again; Mrs. Hill adding in almost a shriek--“And Tisch--Tisch, who hates my poor Mary, who would like to kill her! Oh, you will never put the boy in her hands.” “I fail to see,” said the vicar, mumbling. “I fail to see what can be the need of John Parke when her parents are here.” “My dear sir,” said the man of business, “John Parke is the nearest relation. He’s an executor. He’s the heir, if anything should happen to the little boy--a very delicate little boy I hear, like old men’s children generally--and with insanity on one side. You really must forgive me if I speak my mind. I have been connected with the Parkes, I and my firm, for longer than any one can say; but I never knew such a sad conjunction of affairs.” The Hills, it was evident, were very much startled by this speech. The vicar stood before the fire swaying his heavy head, looking at the floor, while Mrs. Hill, who was more active of mind, made little starts as if to begin speaking, then stopped with the words on her lips. “Do you mean to say,” said Agnes, “that everything will be in--Mr. John Parke’s hands?” “I am the other executor,” said the man of business, not without a little demonstration of the importance which these country people had seemed to ignore. “But,” said the vicar, “we are Lady Frogmore’s parents--I am the child’s grandfather, nearer than an uncle. Why, my wife was here when he was born.” “And we have no object to serve,” cried Mrs. Hill, bursting forth, “none, none, but their good. It’s for John Parke’s advantage that--that harm should come. He can’t be supposed to be fond of little Mar. And his wife--why Tisch, Tisch, everybody knows!--she has her own boy that she thinks ought to be the heir. He’s not safe, he’s not safe if he’s in Tisch Grocombe’s hands!” “Mother, mother!” cried Agnes, in dismay.