Hush, Bitterworth! To speak of recovery to me is worse than child's play.

I _know_ my time has come.

And I am glad to meet it, for it releases me from a world of care." "Were there any in this world who might be supposed to be exempt from care, it is you," said Mr.Bitterworth, leaning towards the invalid, his hale old face expressing the concern he felt.

"I should have judged you to be perfectly free from earthly care.

You have no children; what can be troubling you ?" "Would to Heaven I had children!" exclaimed Mr.Verner; and the remark appeared to break from him involuntarily, in the bitterness of his heart.
"You have your brother's son, your heir, Lionel." "He is no heir of mine," returned Mr.Verner, with, if possible, double bitterness.
"No heir of yours!" repeated Mr.Bitterworth, gazing at his friend, and wondering whether he had lost his senses.
Mr.Verner, on his part, gazed on vacancy, his thoughts evidently cast inwards.