Perhaps certain doubts, and a knowledge of his son's real character, contributed their share towards the reply.
"It ought not to be, Sir Wycherly," returned the judge, musing, "Tom has no right to Wychecombe, and Sir Reginald has the best moral right possible, though the law cuts him off.

Had Sir Michael made the entail, instead of our great-grandfather, he would have come in, as a matter of course." "I never liked Sir Reginald Wychecombe," said the baronet, stubbornly.
"What of that ?--He will not trouble you while living, and when dead it will be all the same.

Come--come--I will draw the will myself, leaving blanks for the name; and when it is once done, you will sign it, cheerfully.

It is the last legal act I shall ever perform, and it will be a suitable one, death being constantly before me." This ended the dialogue.

The will was drawn according to promise; Sir Wycherly took it to his room to read, carefully inserted the name of Tom Wychecombe in all the blank spaces, brought it back, duly executed the instrument in his brother's presence, and then gave the paper to his nephew to preserve, with a strong injunction on him to keep the secret, until the instrument should have force by his own death.