"
"But he is his father's son."
"I will believe nothing of that," said the sick man raising himself
in his bed. "It is a slander; it is based on no evidence
whatsoever. No one even thought of it but you."
"John, is that the way to speak to me?"
"It is the way to speak of an assertion so injurious." Then he fell
back again on his pillows and she sat by his bedside for a full
half hour speechless, thinking of it all. At the end of that time
she had resolved that she would not yet give it up. Should he
regain his health and strength,--and she would pray fervently night
and day that God would be so good to him,--then everything would be
well. Then he would marry and have children, and Bragton would
descend in the right line. But were it to be ordained otherwise,
should it be God's will that he must die, then, as he grew weaker,
he would become more plastic in her hands, and she might still
prevail. At present he was stubborn with the old stubbornness, and
would not see with her eyes. She would bide her time and be careful
to have a lawyer ready. She turned it all over in her mind, as she
sat there watching him in his sleep. She knew of no one but Mr.
Masters whom she distrusted as being connected with the other side
of the family,--whose father had made that will by which the
property in Dillsborough had been dissevered from Bragton.
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