Poor Frank!" The doctor advanced a few paces from off the rug, and taking his hand out of his pocket, he laid it gently on the squire's shoulder.

"Frank will do very well yet," said the he.

"It is not absolutely necessary that a man should have fourteen thousand pounds a year to be happy." "My father left me the property entire, and I should leave it entire to my son;--but you don't understand this." The doctor did understand the feeling fully.

The fact, on the other hand, was that, long as he had known him, the squire did not understand the doctor.
"I would you could, Mr Gresham," said the doctor, "so that your mind might be happier; but that cannot be, and, therefore, I say again, that Frank will do very well yet, although he will not inherit fourteen thousand pounds a year; and I would have you say the same thing to yourself." "Ah! you don't understand it," persisted the squire.

"You don't know how a man feels when he--Ah, well! it's no use my troubling you with what cannot be mended.