"No, no. You're wrong there."
How like he was to her dead husband as he said that, and how she hated him for the likeness!
"Don't contradict me. You were asked to act in Dick's own interest and in the interests of the property, and you promised to do it. And you haven't done it."
"But, Aunt Louisa, he wasn't in a state to sign anything. He's not alive. He's just breathing, that's all. Doesn't know anybody, or take any notice. If you'd seen him you'd have known you couldn't get his signature."
"I did get it about the marsh-lands. I went to Paris on purpose last November, when I was too ill to travel. I only sent you this time because I could not leave my bed."
Roger paused, and then his honest face became plum colour, and he blurted out—
"They were actually going to guide his hand."
Lady Louisa's cold eyes met his.
"Well! And if they were?"
Roger lost his embarrassment. His face became as pale as it had been red. He came up to the bed and looked the sick woman straight in the eyes.