"It was settled, I suppose."
"Yes;—if there were children. And it will come back to her if he dies first. But mad people never do die. That's a well-known fact. They've nothing to trouble them, and they live for ever. It'll all go to some cousin of his that nobody ever saw."
"Not as long as Lady Laura lives."
"But she does not get a penny of the income;—not a penny. There never was anything so cruel. He has published all manner of accusations against her."
"Nobody believes a word of that, my lord."
"And then when she is dragged forward by the necessity of vindicating her character, he goes mad and keeps all her money! There never was anything so cruel since the world began."
This continued for half-an-hour, and then Lady Laura came in. Nothing had come, or could have come, from the consultation with the Earl. Had it gone on for another hour, he would simply have continued to grumble, and have persevered in insisting upon the hardships he endured. Lady Laura was in black, and looked sad, and old, and careworn; but she did not seem to be ill. Phineas could not but think at the moment how entirely her youth had passed away from her. She came and sat close by him, and began at once to speak of the late debate. "Of course they'll go out," she said.
"I presume they will."
"And our party will come in."
"Oh, yes;—Mr. Gresham, and the two dukes, and Lord Cantrip,—with Legge Wilson, Sir Harry Coldfoot, and the rest of them."