‘One would like to know what he meant by it,’ said Laurie. ‘Poor, dear old father! If there had been something dependent on the issue of our probation; if there had been a reward for the man that had used his talent best, like you, Ben; or for the man who had given him an heir, like Frank; but all to end in this aimless way! We have always thought ourselves very sound in the brain, we Rentons, or I know what one might be tempted to think.’
‘That is what I have thought all along,’ said Frank.
‘It is not for us to say so, at least,’ said the elder brother. ‘I believe illness coming on had confused his mind. They say it does. I don’t think he can have been quite clear what he was doing. And then he remembered at last, and was sorry,--don’t you recollect?’
‘My poor father!’ said Laurie. And then there was a pause; and in this pause, through the dimness and the stillness, came the sound of Hillyard’s voice, too low to be distinguishable, coming from Mary’s corner, addressed to her with a volubility and eagerness which struck them all with amazement. He had not meant to be so audible; and when, after the first silence, a little laugh burst from Alice at the one voice thus brought into prominence, he faltered and stopped too, as people do under such circumstances. What could he be finding to say to Mary? and what could Mary be thinking of to listen to him? were the half-angry thoughts that flashed over Ben’s mind. Of course he was a guest here, and everybody’s equal. Yet still, it seemed to Ben as if, on the whole, this was bad taste, to say the least, on Hillyard’s part.
But Alice, though she had laughed at the sound of the solitary voice which continued when they all dropped, was eager to let loose her opinions, too, on the other subject. ‘I cannot see what other will could have been just, now,’ she said. ‘If he had told you something to do, it would have been different. But he gave you nothing to do; and how were you to know what he wanted? It was not Laurie’s three princes, after all.’
‘And, now I come to think of it, I don’t believe in my three princes,’ said Laurie. ‘I have not a doubt they fought it out when papa was out of the way. Fancy two elder brothers giving in to a fellow because he had the marvellousest little dog that ever was seen! It came to natural justice, you may be sure, at the end, and the strongest had it. And it has come to a kind of natural justice with us, so far as law allows. Poor old father! One used to feel as if he must be so much wiser than we were. And it proves he was as confused as the rest, and saw just as short a way before him, and stultified himself, half-knowingly, like one of his own sons.’