“If he is of sound mind—” Presteign said doubtfully.
The doctor smiled sourly. “Don’t tease yourself on that score! His mind is as sound as ever it was.”
“Oh, if you are assured of that—” Presteign said, and wrote his name quickly on the paper.
Someone scratched on the door. Carlyon went to it and opened it, to find Hitchin there, with the intelligence that Mr. Carlyon was belowstairs.
“Mr. Carlyon?”
“Mr. John, my lord. I’ve shown him into the parlor. Mr. Carlyon is very wishful to see your lordship.”
“Very well, I will come directly.”
The doctor rose from the table and gave Cheviot’s will back to Carlyon. “There, it’s done, and I hope you may not regret this night’s work, my lord,” he said.
“Thank you; I do not expect to regret it.”
“To be throwing a good estate to the four winds for a scruple!” the doctor grumbled.