"You must be married again," said Roger, after a pause, "and
that before the child is born. Have you got a certificate of the
marriage?"
"I daresay Morrison has got it somewhere. But I believe I'm legally
married according to the laws both of England and France; I really
do, old fellow. I've got the préfet's papers somewhere."
"Never mind! you shall be married again in England. Aimée goes to the
Roman Catholic chapel at Prestham, doesn't she?"
"Yes. She is so good I wouldn't disturb her in her religion for the
world."
"Then you shall be married both there and at the church of the parish
in which she lives as well," said Roger, decidedly.
"It's a great deal of trouble, unnecessary trouble, and unnecessary
expense, I should say," said Osborne. "Why can't you leave well
alone? Neither Aimée nor I are of the sort of stuff to turn
scoundrels and deny the legality of our marriage; and if the child
is a boy and my father dies, and I die, why I'm sure you'll do him
justice, as sure as I am of myself, old fellow!"
"But if I die into the bargain? Make a hecatomb of the present
Hamleys all at once, while you are about it. Who succeeds as
heir-male?"
Osborne thought for a moment. "One of the Irish Hamleys, I suppose.
I fancy they are needy chaps. Perhaps you're right. But what need to
have such gloomy forebodings?"
"The law makes one have foresight in such affairs," said Roger. "So
I'll go down to Aimée next week when I'm in town, and I'll make all
necessary arrangements before you come. I think you'll be happier if
it is all done."
"I shall be happier if I've a chance of seeing the little woman, that
I grant you. But what is taking you up to town? I wish I'd money to
run about like you, instead of being shut up for ever in this dull
old house."
Osborne was apt occasionally to contrast his position with Roger's
in a tone of complaint, forgetting that both were the results of
character, and also that out of his income Roger gave up so large
a portion for the maintenance of his brother's wife. But if this
ungenerous thought of Osborne's had been set clearly before his
conscience, he would have smote his breast and cried "Mea culpa" with
the best of them; it was only that he was too indolent to keep an
unassisted conscience.
"I shouldn't have thought of going up," said Roger, reddening as if
he had been accused of spending another's money instead of his own,
"if I hadn't had to go up on business. Lord Hollingford has written
for me; he knows my great wish for employment, and has heard of
something which he considers suitable; there's his letter if you care
to read it. But it does not tell anything definitely."