“Naturally enough, he would prevent it.” “Very likely; he openly proposed to me to compel Buckstone to marry her, on penalty of a criminal prosecution. If he was the person with Buckstone last night, there was nothing dishonorable or unfriendly in his conduct, for his action was consistent with the course upon which we had agreed.” “Did you authorize him to purchase Buckstone’s compliance?” “No, I did not; but that does not materially affect the question.” “It does not: I only wish to establish the point that Mr. Birch desired to bring about the marriage of Mary with Buckstone.” “We grant that.” “Why did he desire it?” “For Mary’s sake; for mine, too, if you please. Both considerations were honorable and friendly towards me.” “Entirely so, Mr. Hungerford,” said the doctor, warmly. “One more question, if you please. Did you ever say anything to Mr. Birch about marrying, when Mary was utterly lost to you? or could he, from his thorough knowledge of your disposition and character, have formed a correct idea as to whether you would or would not marry another?” Dr. Bilks looked interested and anxious when he proposed the question. “I told him in so many words, before I went to Europe, that I should not marry at all, as Mary could not be mine; and he knew me well enough to believe what I said. The last thing I said to him was to the effect that the three millions could never be mine.” “Exactly so; he told me, if you did not marry Mary, you would never marry. If at the age of thirty you have no son, what becomes of the three millions, did you say?” “Half a million goes to me, half a million to my sister----” “Did you intimate that you thought Mr. Birch and your sister were disposed to be fond of each other?” interposed Dr. Bilks, in a kind of careless, indifferent manner. Eugene sprang to his feet. His face was deadly pale, and his lip quivered. He had grasped the doctor’s mysterious thought. Dick Birch wished to prevent the possibility of his marriage with Mary, that, with Julia, he might obtain the fortune of half a million! It was a disgusting, revolting suspicion, and he was sick at heart. CHAPTER XIV. IN THE LIBRARY. “Mr. Hungerford, I beg you will not give this suggestion the slightest thought or attention. I am entirely satisfied that there cannot be the least ground for suspecting our friend Mr. Birch of unworthy motives,” interposed Dr. Bilks, when he observed Eugene’s distress. “I am sure he has been a true friend, and far above any selfish considerations.” Eugene paced the room in violent agitation. He could not, he did not, believe that Dick Birch was capable of double-dealing with anybody, and especially not with him. “You have compelled me to lead your mind in the direction which my own travelled for an instant; you dragged my thought out of me; now I must insist that you banish the idea from your mind, as I did from mine,” continued the doctor, apparently much moved by the mischief he had been forced to do.