Always gnawing at his heart was the remorseful recollection of his eldest son, whom he could not love, but for whom he felt an unutterable pity. A living witness against his selfishness and hypocrisy! The thought of him, haunting him at all times, was charged with misery. It was becoming morbid with him, when Margaret, not too soon, came back to Apley, and was once more his daily companion.

Margaret and Laura met on apparently the old terms. Margaret was very anxious that there should be no break in the intimacy between Sidney and the rector. Partly on this account, and partly from the patience and pity she had learned for the follies of others, she made no difference toward Laura. But Dorothy, again with the severity of youth, could not tolerate the presence of Phyllis's mother. Phyllis herself was away; but when Laura came up to the Hall, Dorothy found some pretext to be absent, or, if that was impossible, sat by in unbroken silence. Not one of Laura's blandishments could induce her to go to the Rectory. Dick's chances were gone, if he ever had any.

"I see plainly enough what Sidney and Margaret are about," Laura said to her husband. "Now Philip has lost the inheritance, and is a poor match, they are going to bring about a marriage between him and Dorothy Churchill. They are shrewd enough for that, with all their unworldliness."

"Philip and Dorothy!" he repeated thoughtfully; "that seems to me an excellent marriage, now that my poor little Phyllis has found out she never loved Philip. I should have rejoiced in giving Phyllis to him; but doubtless Dorothy is still better suited. And Sidney wished it before he knew of Phyllis's engagement to Philip."

"But I was hoping Dick would have a chance with Dorothy," she said.

"Dick? Oh, no!" he answered. "It would grieve me to the heart if any of my sons became fortune hunters. Dorothy is too rich for any of them. Let them marry girls in their own station, and live honest, industrious lives. I am glad Dick never thought of such a thing."

"But Philip is in the same position now; it is just as much fortune-hunting for him to seek Dorothy."

"Nothing of the kind," he said with the sudden sharpness of a dreamy, mild-tempered man. "Do you suppose Sidney has nothing but those estates bought by Sir John Martin, our uncle? He has had that magnificent business for over five-and-twenty years. All that he has made for himself will go to Philip."

"Why does Philip become a medical student, then?" she asked snappishly.

"Because the lad does not care to be doing nothing," he replied, "and Margaret does not like him to engage in commerce. She says she does not want him to have nothing to do save merely amassing money. Of course, he would have been a country gentleman, practically a landlord, looking after his father's interests and the welfare of his future tenants. He would have become a magistrate, and he was admirably fitted for filling many useful posts as a country gentleman. Now this prospect has come to an end he chooses to study surgery instead of going into business; a good choice, I think. But he will be a rich man, rich enough to marry a greater heiress than Dorothy, without incurring the reproach of fortune hunting. Sidney must be little short of being a millionaire."