“Of course she _ought_ to,” Dearing said, still inclined to jest, “but you are wise enough to know that no woman ever took the advice of a man, young or old. See here, uncle, I'll bet you haven't had your medicine yet, and the dinner-bell will ring soon and you will have to wait fifteen minutes before you shall taste a bite. You and I 'll quarrel if you don't do as I tell you. Madge won't obey you, but you've got to get down on your marrow-bones and follow my orders.” “Oh, I'll take the blasted stuff in time!” the General fumed. “I don't want to eat now, anyway. I tell you, I'm too mad to eat.” “I suppose it is Fred Walton again,” Dearing said, resignedly. “Who else could it be?” the old man burst out. “She tries to close my eyes as to her doings with him; but I got it straight that he was out driving with her last night while you were in the country.” The face of the doctor clouded over. “You don't mean to say that--” “I mean that he was afraid to drive up to the door like a gentleman, but met her down-town and took her from there, and when they got back, long after dark, he left her at Lizzie Sloan's, to keep us from getting on to it. You know, folks will talk about a thing like that.” Dearing's eyes flashed, and a touch of whiteness crept into his face, but he said, pacifically: “Oh, there must be some mistake. I hardly think Madge would--” “But there _isn't_ any mistake, for she admitted it to me not ten minutes ago, and just as good as told me it was none of my business besides. Now, listen to me, my boy. I am an old man, but I am still in the possession of my faculties, and I know what I am talking about. I was in the bank yesterday, and had a talk with his father. He told me frankly that he intended to cut the scamp off without a penny. He gave the fellow a position of trust in the bank, but instead of behaving himself properly, he started into gambling, speculating in futures, and every reckless thing he could think of. He turned customers away, scared off depositors, who don't like to leave their money in such hands, and in many ways injured the business. Old Walton was so mad he could hardly talk to me, and when I told him right out how I felt about my niece going with him, he said he didn't blame me; that he wouldn't let such a rascal go with a servant of his, much less the acknowledged belle of the town, and a prospective heiress. Now, Wynn, this is what I have decided to do. You know that I have made my will, leaving all I have in the world to her.” “And it is blamed bully of you, Uncle Tom,” Dearing said, laying his hand on the old man's shoulder, which he could feel quivering with a passion not good for even a younger man. “I am sure, neither of us is worthy of the great interest you have always taken in us.”