"I do not care two straws about doing my duty, young man." Here Mr.

Scarborough raised himself in part, and spoke in that strong voice which was supposed to be so deleterious to him. "Or rather, in seeking my duty, I look beyond the conventionalities of the world. I think that you have behaved d.a.m.nably, and that I have punished you. Because of Mountjoy's weakness, because he had been knocked off his legs, I endeavored to put you upon yours. You at once turned upon me, when you thought the deed was done, and bade me go--and bury myself. You were a little too quick in your desire to become the owner of Tretton Park at once. I have stayed long enough to give some farther trouble. You will not say, after this, that I am _non compos_, and unable to make a will.

You will find that, under mine, not one penny-piece, not one sc.r.a.p of property, will become yours. Mountjoy will take care of you, I do not doubt. He must hate you, but will recognize you as his brother. I am not so soft-hearted and will not recognize you as my son. Now you may go away." So saying, he turned himself round to the wall, and refused to be induced to utter another word. Augustus began to speak, but when he had commenced his second sentence the old man rung his bell. "Mary," said he to his sister, "will you have the goodness to get Augustus to go away? I am very weak, and if he remains he will be the death of me. He can't get anything by killing me at once; it is too late for that."

Then Augustus did leave the room, and before the night came had left Tretton also. He presumed there was nothing for him to do there. One word he did say to Mountjoy,--"You will understand, Mountjoy, that when our father is dead Tretton will not become your property."

"I shall understand nothing of the kind," said Mountjoy "but I suppose Mr. Grey will tell me what I am to do."

CHAPTER LVII.

MR. PROSPER SHOWS HIS GOOD-NATURE.

While these things were going on at Tretton, and while Mr. Scarborough was making all arrangements for the adequate disposition of his property,--in doing which he had happily come to the conclusion that there was no necessity for interfering with what the law had settled,--Mr. Prosper was lying very ill at Buston, and was endeavoring on his sick-bed to reconcile himself to what the entail had done for him. There could be no other heir to him but Harry Annesley. As he thought of the unmarried ladies of his acquaintance, he found that there was no one who would have done for him but Miss Puffle and Matilda Thoroughbung. All others were too young or too old, or chiefly penniless. Miss Puffle would have been the exact thing--only for that intruding farmer's son.

As he lay there alone in his bedroom his mind used to wander a little, and he would send for Matthew, his butler, and hold confidential discussions with him. "I never did think, sir, that Miss Thoroughbung was exactly the lady," said Matthew.

"Why not?"

"Well, sir, there is a saying--But you'll excuse me."

"Go on, Matthew."

"There is a saying as how 'you can't make a silk purse out of a sow's ear.'"

"I've heard that."

"Just so, sir. Now, Miss Thoroughbung is a very nice lady."

"I don't think she's a nice lady at all."

"But--Of course it's not becoming in me to speak against my betters, and as a menial servant I never would."

"Go on, Matthew."

"Miss Thoroughbung is--"

"Go on, Matthew."

"Well;--she is a sow's ear. Ain't she, now? The servants here never would have looked upon her as a silk purse."

"Wouldn't they?"

"Never! She has a way with her just as though she didn't care for silk purses. And it's my mind, sir, that she don't. She wishes, however, to be uppermost, and if she had come here she'd have said so."

"That can never be. Thank G.o.d, that can never be!"

"Oh, no! Brewers is brewers, and must be. There's Mr. Joe--He's very well, no doubt."

"I haven't the pleasure of his acquaintance."

"Him as is to marry Miss Molly. But Miss Molly ain't the head of the family; is she, sir?" Here the squire shook his head. "You're the head of the family, sir."

"I suppose so."

"And is--I might make so bold as to speak?"

"Go on, Matthew."

"Miss Thoroughbung would be a little out of place at Buston Hall. Now, as to Miss Puffle--"

"Miss Puffle is a lady,--or was."

"No doubt, sir. The Puffles is not quite equal to the Prospers, as I can hear. But the Puffles is ladies--and gentlemen. The servants below all give it up to them that they're real gentlefolk. But--"

"Well?"

"She demeaned herself terribly with young Tazlehurst. They all said as there were more where that came from."

"What should they mean by that?"

"She'd indulge in low 'abits,--such as never would have been put up with at Buston Hall,--a-cursing and a-swearing--"

"Miss Puffle!"

"Not herself,--I don't say that; but it's like enough if you 'ad heard all. But them as lets others do it almost does it themselves. And them as lets others drink sperrrits o' mornings come nigh to having a dram down their own throats."

"Oh laws!" exclaimed Mr. Prosper, thinking of the escape he had had.

"You wouldn't have liked it, sir, if there had been a bottle of gin in the bedroom!" Here Mr. Prosper hid his face among the bedclothes. "It ain't all that comes silk out of the skein that does to make a purse of."

There were difficulties in the pursuit of matrimony of which Mr. Prosper had not thought. His imagination at once pictured to himself a bride with a bottle of gin under her pillow, and he went on shivering till Matthew almost thought that he had been attacked by an ague-fit.

"I shall give it up, at any rate," he said, after a pause.

"Of course you're a young man, sir."

"No, I'm not."

"That is, not exactly young,"

"You're an old fool to tell such lies!"

"Of course I'm an old fool; but I endeavor to be veracious. I never didn't take a shilling as were yours, nor a shilling's worth, all the years I have known you, Mr. Prosper."

"What has that to do with it? I'm not a young man."