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“Do you know anything of that Feltram that has been with him abroad?” asked the Doctor.

“They say he’s no good at anything — a harmless mafflin; he was a long gaumless gawky when he went awa,” said Richard Turnbull. “The Feltrams and the Mardykes was sib, ye know; and that made what passed in the misfortune o’ that young lady spoken of all the harder; and this young man ye speak of is a grandson o’ the lad that was put here in care o’ my grandfather.”

“Great-grandson. His father was grandson,” said Mr. Peers; “he held a commission in the army and died in the West Indies. This Philip Feltram is the last o’ that line — illegitimate, you know, it is held — and the little that remained of the Feltram property went nearly fourscore years ago to the Mardykes, and this Philip is maintained by Sir Bale; it is pleasant, notwithstanding all the stories one hears, gentlemen, that the only thing we know of him for certain should be so creditable to his kindness.”

“To be sure,” acquiesced Mr. Turnbull.