“I can’t tell him, papa.  I don’t know where he lives.”

“Perhaps Carroll could do so.”

“I never speak to Mr. Carroll.  And I would not willingly mention Juniper’s name to my aunt or to either of the girls.  It will be better to let Juniper go on in his row.”

“With all my heart,” said Mr. Grey.  And then there was an end of that.

On the next morning, the fourth after his return from Tretton, Mr. Grey received a letter from Mountjoy Scarborough.  “He was sure,” he said, “that Mr. Grey would be sorry to hear that his father had been very weak since Mr. Grey had gone, and unable even to see him, Mountjoy, for more than two or three minutes at a time.  He was afraid that all would soon be over; but he and everybody around the squire had been surprised to find how cheerful and high-spirited he was.  It seems,” wrote Mountjoy, “as though he had nothing to regret, either as regards this world or the next.  He has no remorse, and certainly no fear.  Nothing, I think, could make him angry, unless the word repentance were mentioned to him.  To me and to his sister he is unwontedly affectionate; but Augustus’s name has not crossed his lips since you left the house.”  Then he went on to the matter as to which his letter had been written.  “What am I to do when all is over with him?  It is natural that I should come to you for advice.  I will promise nothing about myself, but I trust that I may not return to the gambling-table.  If I have this property to manage, I may be able to remain down here without going up to London.  But shall I have the property to manage? and what steps am I to take with the view of getting it?  Of course I shall have to encounter opposition, but I do not think that you will be one of those to oppose me.  I presume that I shall be left here in possession, and that, they say, is nine points of the law.  In the usual way I ought, I presume, simply to do nothing, but merely to take possession.  The double story about the two marriages ought to count for nothing,—­and I should be as though no such plots had ever been hatched.  But they have been hatched, and other people know of them.  The creditors, I presume, can do nothing.  You have all the bonds in your possession.  They may curse and swear, but will, I imagine, have no power.  I doubt whether they have a morsel of ground on which to raise a lawsuit; for whether I or Augustus be the eldest son, their claims have been satisfied in full.  But I presume that Augustus will not sit quiet.  What ought I to do in regard to him?  As matters stand at present he will not get a shilling.  I fear my father is too ill to make another will.  But at any rate he will make none in favor of Augustus.  Pray tell me what I ought to do; and tell me whether you can send any one down to assist me when my father shall have gone.”