"My next heirs," repeated the earl—"of course. I must have an heir. I wonder I never thought of that. If I died, there must be somebody to succeed me in the title and estates."
"Not in the title," said Mr. Menteith, hesitating, for he saw it was opening a subject most difficult and painful, yet which must be opened sometime or other, and the old was too hones to shrink from so doing, if necessary.
"Why not the title?"
"It is entailed, and can be inherited in the direct male line only."
"That is, it descends from father to son?"
"Exactly so."
"I see," said the young man, after a long pause.
"Then I am the last Earl of Cairnforth."
There was no answer. Mr. Menteith could not for his life have given one; besides, none seemed required. The earl said it as if merely stating a fact beyond which there is no appeal, and neither expecting nor desiring any refutation or contradiction.
"Now," Lord Cairnforth continued, suddenly changing the conversation, "let us speak once more of the Bruces, who, you say, might any day succeed to my fortune, and would probably make a very bad use of it."