‘Don’t, father; don’t dream of making such concessions,’ Letitia almost shrieked. The idea of parting thus coolly with thousands out of the future heritage of her children! ‘No, no; better to fight it out, to resist to the bitter end.’
‘I think I must consult your mother and Conrad.’
‘What have they to say to it? I am the person principally concerned—I and mine—we shall be the greatest sufferers.’
‘Letitia,’ said her father very gravely to her, ‘it was not only to speak to you concerning this letter that I asked you to come here; it was to break some worse news.’
‘Affecting us?’
‘Us all, but more particularly you.’
‘Go on; quick, father.’
‘Till very lately I had thought that after me there would be an end of the Farringtons. You would be sole heiress to the estates, to which your children would succeed, but the title would become extinct, and the name, unless specially assumed. Within the last month or two I have discovered that I have a lawful male heir, who must inevitably come between you in the entail. Ernest, poor Ernest, left a son.’
‘By that person, that woman? Father, how dare you mention her name in my presence? What claims can such a creature as her offspring have upon you?’
‘Poor Ernest married her, Letitia. There is not a shadow of a doubt of it. The whole of the proofs are in my possession. The child I have not seen, and will not see. But your mother has; indeed, the whole thing has come out through her.’