"Then I am the last Earl of Cairnforth."
There was no answer. Mr. Menteith could not for his life have given
one; besides, none seemed required. The earl said it as if merely
stating a fact beyond which there is no appeal, and neither expecting
nor desiring any refutation or contradiction.
"Now," Lord Cairnforth continued, suddenly changing the conversation,
"let us speak once more of the Bruces, who, you say, might any day
succeed to my fortune, and would probably make a very bad use of it."
"I believe so; upon my conscience I do!" said Mr. Menteith, earnestly,
"else I never should have felt justified in keeping them out of your way
as I have done."
"Who are they? I mean, of what does the family consist?"
"An old man--Colonel Bruce he calls himself, and is known as such in
every disreputable gambling town on the Continent; a long tribe of
girls, and one son, eldest or youngest, I forget which, who was sent to
India through some influence I used for your father's sake, but who may
be dead by now for aught I know. Indeed, the utmost I have had to do
with the family of late years has been paying the annuity granted them
by the late earl, which I continued, not legally, but through charity,
on trust that the present earl would never call me to account for the
same.
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