You, too, Rotherham; wish my poor brother James--St.James--used to call him--had been living;--you--good neighbour--Rotherham." "Can I do any thing to prove it, my dear Sir Wycherly?
Nothing would make me happier than to know, and to comply with, all your wishes, at a moment so important!" "Let all quit--room--but yourself--head feels worse--I cannot delay--" "'Tis cruel to distress my beloved uncle with business, or conversation, in his present state," interposed Tom Wychecombe, with emphasis, and, in a slight degree, with authority.
All not only felt the truth of this, but all felt that the speaker, by his consanguinity, had a clear right to interfere, in the manner he had.
Still Sir Gervaise Oakes had great reluctance in yielding to this remonstrance; for, to the distrust he had imbibed of Tom Wychecombe, was added an impression that his host wished to reveal something of interest, in connection with his new favourite, the lieutenant.

He felt compelled, notwithstanding, to defer to the acknowledged nephew's better claims, and he refrained from interfering.

Fortunately, Sir Wycherly was yet in a state to enforce his own wishes.
"Let all quit--room," he repeated, in a voice that was startling by its unexpected firmness, and equally unexpected distinctness.

"All but Sir Gervaise Oakes--Admiral Bluewater--Mr.Rotherham, Gentlemen--favour to remain--rest depart." Accustomed to obey their master's orders, more especially when given in a tone so decided, the domestics quitted the room, accompanied by Dutton; but Tom Wychecombe saw fit to remain, as if his presence were to be a matter of course.
"Do me--favour--withdraw,--Mr.Wychecombe," resumed the baronet, after fixing his gaze on his nephew for some time, as if expecting him to retire without this request.
"My beloved uncle, it is I--Thomas, your own brother's son--your next of kin--waiting anxiously by your respected bed-side.

Do not--do not--confound me with strangers.