"Yes, make another will—or else alter that one. But as to Miss Thorne coming here—"
"What! Mary—"
"Well, Mary. As to Mary Thorne coming here, that I fear will not be possible. She cannot have two homes. She has cast her lot with one of her uncles, and she must remain with him now."
"Do you mean to say that she must never have any relation but one?"
"But one such as I am. She would not be happy over here. She does not like new faces. You have enough depending on you; I have but her."
"Enough! why, I have only Louis Philippe. I could provide for a dozen girls."
"Well, well, well, we will not talk about that."
"Ah! but, Thorne, you have told me of this girl now, and I cannot but talk of her. If you wished to keep the matter dark, you should have said nothing about it. She is my niece as much as yours. And, Thorne, I loved my sister Mary quite as well as you loved your brother; quite as well."
Any one who might now have heard and seen the contractor would have hardly thought him to be the same man who, a few hours before, was urging that the Barchester physician should be put under the pump.
"You have your son, Scatcherd. I have no one but that girl."