"Why, I should hope my personal direction of that conversation, and--and things, has been such as I should wish," said the peer, very loftily. "My lord, I have failed to make myself clear. I never questioned the consummate ability with which, no doubt, your lordship's part in that conversation was sustained. What I meant to convey is, that considering the immense distance socially between you, the habitual and undeviating eminence of your lordship's position, and the melancholy circle in which it has been your brother's lot to move, your meeting him face to face for the purpose of a personal discussion of your relations, may lead him to the absurd conclusion that your lordship is, in fact, afraid of him." "That, sir, would be a very impertinent conclusion." "Quite so, my lord, and render him proportionably impracticable. Now, I'll undertake to bring him to reason." The attorney was speaking very low and sternly, with contracted eyes and a darkened face. "He has been married to the lady who lives in the house adjoining, under the name of Mrs. Mervyn, and to my certain knowledge inquiries have been set in motion to ascertain whether there has not been issue of that marriage." "You may set your mind perfectly at rest with regard to that marriage, Mr. Larkin; the whole thing was thoroughly sifted--and things--my father undertook it, the late Lord Verney, about it; and so it went on, and was quite examined, and it turned out the poor woman had been miserably deceived by a mock ceremony, and this mock thing was the whole _thing_, and there's nothing more; the evidence was very deplorable, and--and quite satisfactory." "Oh! that's a great weight off my mind," said Larkin, trying to smile, and looking very much disappointed, "a great weight, my lord." "I knew it would--yes," acquiesced Lord Verney. "And simplifies our dealings with the other side; for if there had been a good marriage, and concealed issue male of that marriage, they would have used that circumstance to _extort money_." "Well, I don't see how they could, though; for if there had been a child, about it--he'd have been heir apparent, don't you see? to the title." "Oh!--a--yes--_certainly_, that's very true, my lord; but then there's _none_, so _that's_ at rest." "I've just heard," interposed Lord Verney, "I may observe, that the poor old lady, Mrs. Mervyn, is suddenly and dangerously ill." "Oh! _is_ she?" said Mr. Larkin very uneasily, for she was, if not his queen, at least a very valuable pawn upon his chess-board. "Yes; the doctor thinks she's actually dying, poor old soul!"