You must take him; a _filius nullius_, in the person of my son Tom; a stranger; or let the property escheat; for, we are so peculiarly placed as not to have a known relative, by either the male or female lines; the maternal ancestors being just as barren of heirs as the paternal.

Our good mother was the natural daughter of the third Earl of Prolific; our grandmother was the last of her race, so far as human ken can discover; our great-grandmother is said to have had semi-royal blood in her veins, without the aid of the church, and beyond that it would be hopeless to attempt tracing consanguinity on that side of the house.

No, Wycherly; it is Sir Reginald who has the best right to the land; Tom, or one of his brothers, an utter stranger, or His Majesty, follow.

Remember that estates of L4000 a year, don't often escheat, now-a-days." "If you'll draw up a will, brother, I'll leave it all to Tom," cried the baronet, with sudden energy.

"Nothing need be said about the _nullius_; and when I'm gone, he'll step quietly into my place." Nature triumphed a moment in the bosom of the father; but habit, and the stern sense of right, soon overcame the feeling.