It was now more than probable that that heir must be Mary Thorne.  His conviction became stronger and stronger that no human effort would keep Sir Louis in the land of the living till he was twenty-five.  Could he, therefore, wisely or honestly, in true friendship to the squire, to Frank, or to his niece, take any steps to separate two persons who loved each other, and whose marriage would in human probability be so suitable?

And yet he could not bring himself to encourage it then.  The idea of ‘looking after dead man’s shoes’ was abhorrent to his mind, especially when the man whose death he contemplated had been so trusted to him as had been Sir Louis Scatcherd.  He could not speak of the event, even to the squire, as being possible.  So he kept his peace from day to day, and gave no counsel to Mary in the matter.

And then he had his own individual annoyances, and very aggravating annoyances they were.  The carriage—­or rather the post-chaise—­of Dr Fillgrave was now frequent in Greshamsbury, passing him constantly in the street, among the lanes, and on the high roads.  It seemed as though Dr Fillgrave could never get to his patients at the big house without showing himself to his beaten rival, either on is way thither or on his return.  This alone would, perhaps, not have hurt the doctor much; but it did hurt him to know that Dr Fillgrave was attending the squire for a little incipient gout, and that dear Nina was in measles under those unloving hands.

And then, also, the old-fashioned phaeton, of old-fashioned old Dr Century was seen to rumble up to the big house, and it became known that Lady Arabella was not very well.  ‘Not very well,’ when pronounced in a low, grave voice about Lady Arabella, always meant something serious.  And, in this case, something serious was meant.  Lady Arabella was not only ill, but frightened.  It appeared even to her, that Dr Fillgrave hardly knew what he was about, that he was not so sure in his opinion, so confident in himself as Dr Thorne used to be. how should he be, seeing that Dr Thorne had medically had Lady Arabella in his hands for the last ten years?

If sitting with dignity in his hired carriage, and stepping with authority up the big front steps, would have done anything, Dr Fillgrave might have done much.  Lady Arabella was greatly taken with his looks when he first came to her, and it was only when she by degrees that the symptoms, which she knew so well, did not yield to him that she began to doubt those looks.

After a while Dr Fillgrave himself suggested Dr Century.  ’Not that I fear anything, Lady Arabella,’ said he,—­lying hugely, for he did fear; fear both for himself and for her.  ’But Dr Century has great experience, and in such a matter, when the interests are so important, one cannot be too safe.’