Sir Theodosius, looking at his sister as she stood there, softened a little towards her, realizing that she had her uses. He might enjoy the kind of life he wished, as a scholarly recluse, a celibate, and she would marry and bear the children who would carry on the name, and who would in time inherit all his treasure. And if Laura had no children — his mind darted ahead into the future — why, then to whom should he leave all his wealth? To his old college at Oxford, he thought, and only the bare bones of the estate for the next-of-kin, some distant cousins of his father’s by the name of Conway whom he had only met rarely on the most formal occasions, in his boyhood, and who were now in India. Since the estate was not entailed he would probably decide that it should all go to the hammer and
