Dr. Thorne again expressed an opinion that no step would be so likely to reform the habits of the young heir as marriage, and repeated his advice to the father to implore his son to take a wife.
'I'll tell you what, Thorne,' said he. And then, after a pause, he went on. 'I have not half told you as yet what is on my mind; and I'm nearly afraid to tell it; though, indeed, I don't know why I should be.'
'I never knew you afraid of anything yet,' said the doctor, smiling gently.
'Well, then, I'll not end by turning coward. Now, doctor, tell the truth to me; what do you expect me to do for that girl of yours that we were talking of—Mary's child?
There was a pause for a moment, for Thorne was slow to answer him.
'You would not let me see her, you know, though she is my niece as truly as she is yours.'
'Nothing,' at last said the doctor, slowly. 'I expect nothing. I would not let you see her, and therefore I expect nothing.'
'She will have it all if poor Louis should die,' said Sir Roger.
'If you intend it so you should put her name into the will,' said the other. 'Not that I ask you or wish you to do so. Mary, thank God, can do without wealth.'
'Thorne, on one condition I will put her name into it. I will alter it all on one condition. Let the two cousins be man and wife—let Louis marry poor Mary's child.'
The proposition for a moment took away the doctor's breath, and he was unable to answer. Not for all the wealth of India would he have given up his lamb to that young wolf, even though he had had the power to do so. But that lamb—lamb though she was—had, as he well knew, a will of her own on such a matter. What alliance could be more impossible, thought he to himself, than one between Mary Thorne and Louis Scatcherd!
'I will alter it all if you will give me your hand upon it that you will do your best to bring about this marriage. Everything shall be his on the day he marries her; and should he die unmarried, it shall all then be hers by name. Say the word, Thorne, and she shall come here at once. I shall yet have time to see her.'
But Dr. Thorne did not say the word; just at the moment he said nothing, but he slowly shook his head.
'Why not, Thorne?'
'My friend, it is impossible.'
'Why impossible?'
'Her hand is not mine to dispose of, nor is her heart.'
