“He ought to see these notes,” said Jock. “It strikes me that there is a clue here to that difficulty he mentions in that published paper of his.”
“You ought to show it to him,” said John.
“You ought,” said Jock.
“Do you know much about him?” asked Mother Carey. “I don’t think I ever saw him, though I know his name. A fashionable physician, is he not?”
“A very good man,” said John. “A great West-end swell just come to be the acknowledged head in his own line. I suppose it is just what my uncle would have been ten years ago, if he had been spared.”
“May we show it to him, mother?” said Jock. “I should think he was quite to be trusted with it. I see! I was reading an account of this method of his to Dr. Lucas one day, and he was much interested and tried to tell me something about my father; but it was after his speech grew so imperfect, and he was so much excited and distressed that I had to lead him away from the subject.”
“Yes, Dr. Lucas’s incredulity made all the difference. How old is Dr. Ruthven, John?”
“A little over forty, I should say. He may have been a pupil of my uncle’s.”
After a little more consultation, it was decided that John should write to Dr. Ruthven that his cousin had some papers of his father’s which he thought the Doctor might like to see, and that they would bring them if he would make an appointment.
And so the Magnum Bonum was no longer a secret, a burden, and a charge!