"My imagination can picture it. Death is so final. As Herrick says:—
"'Man is a watch, wound up at first, but never
Wound up again: once down he's down for ever.'
I have sympathised with all my soul."
"Then you must be practical and prove your sympathy. I had meant to write to you, but speech is more direct, and so I waited until we met. Now thus it stands. My son has passed away; my daughter remains."
"I have appreciated that. There was a verse writ on the Duchess of St. Albans by the Earl of Halifax for the toasting-glasses of the Kit-Cat Club. A word or two makes it exquisitely applicable:—
"'The line Malherb, so long renown'd in arms,
Concludes with lustre in fair Grace's charms.
Her conquering eyes have made their race complete:
They rose in valour, and in beauty set.'"
"They mustn't set; that's the whole matter," answered Maurice Malherb. "I have sworn to my heart that set they shall not. My son is dead; my grandson remains a possibility—nay, a certainty, so far as anything human can be certain."
"Your grandson! You amaze me. Tut, tut! Was Noel married?"
"No! My grandson will be your firstborn. Where's the amazement in that? Two years hence you will be the father of a boy; and that boy I ask of you. Some might almost say I had right of possession, circumstances being what they are; but I am reasonable in my dealings, and just to all men. That boy I ask—nay, I beg. My heart yearns to the unborn lad. I live in the future always, for 'tis both true wisdom and true happiness to look ahead. The present generally proves cursedly disappointing to a sanguine soul. I gave you my daughter and you give me your son—your firstborn son. He will come hither; his name shall be Malherb; he succeeds me and founds the family which my own son would have founded. You catch my sense? 'Tis but a link missed in the chain. I cannot believe that I am asking too great a thing. What say you?"
As a man of humour, Mr. Norcot always appreciated his present host. Now he kept a judicial face and laughed out of sight. His eyes were grave and his forehead wrinkled. He thought, of course, of Grace, but he did not mention her.