Nothing could be more mistaken than such a notion. George is a most
estimable young man, and my dear brother's only son. I wish you would
try to remember that, Philip--blood is thicker than water, you know--
and you will be the only two Caresfoots left when I am gone. Now,
perhaps you may think that I intend enriching George at your expense,
but that is not so. Take this key and open the top drawer of that
secretaire, and give me that bundle. This is my will. If you care to
look over it, and can understand it--which is more than I can--you
will see that everything is left to you, with the exception of that
outlying farm at Holston, those three Essex farms that I bought two
years ago, and twelve thousand pounds in cash. Of course, as you know,
the Abbey House, and the lands immediately round, are entailed--it has
always been the custom to entail them for many generations. There, put
it back. And now the last thing is, I want you to get married, Philip.
I should like to see a grandchild in the house before I die. I want
you to marry Maria Lee. I like the girl. She comes of a good old
Marlshire stock--our family married into hers in the year 1703.
Besides, her property would put yours into a ring-fence. She is a
sharp girl too, and quite pretty enough for a wife. I hope you will
think it over, Philip."

"Yes, father; but perhaps she will not have me. I am going to lunch
there to-morrow."

"I don't think you need be afraid, Philip; but I won't keep you any
longer. Shake hands, my boy. You'll perhaps think of your old father
kindly when you come to stand in his shoes. I hope you will, Philip.
We have had many a quarrel, and sometimes I have been wrong, but I
have always wished to do my duty by you, my boy. Don't forget to make
the best of your time at lunch to-morrow."