Chronicles of Barsetshire: Book 1-6. Anthony Trollope

The eldest child! You should be more particular, Scatcherd; you should, indeed. Consider what an enormous interest may have to depend on those words.”

      “Why, what the devil could I say? I don’t know their names; never even heard them. But the eldest is the eldest, all the world over. Perhaps I ought to say the youngest, seeing that I am only a railway contractor.”

      Scatcherd began to think that the doctor might now as well go away and leave him to the society of Winterbones and the brandy; but, much as our friend had before expressed himself in a hurry, he now seemed inclined to move very leisurely. He sat there by the bedside, resting his hands on his knees and gazing unconsciously at the counterpane. At last he gave a deep sigh, and then he said, “Scatcherd, you must be more particular in this. If I am to have anything to do with it, you must, indeed, be more explicit.”

      “Why, how the deuce can I be more explicit? Isn’t her eldest living child plain enough, whether he be Jack, or she be Gill?”

      “What did your lawyer say to this, Scatcherd?”

      “Lawyer! You don’t suppose I let my lawyer know what I was putting. No; I got the form and the paper, and all that from him, and had him here, in one room, while Winterbones and I did it in another. It’s all right enough. Though Winterbones wrote it, he did it in such a way he did not know what he was writing.”

      The doctor sat a while longer, still looking at the counterpane, and then got up to depart. “I’ll see you again soon,” said he; “tomorrow, probably.”

      “Tomorrow!” said Sir Roger, not at all understanding why Dr Thorne should talk of returning so soon. “Tomorrow! why I ain’t so bad as that, man, am I? If you come so often as that you’ll ruin me.”

      “Oh, not as a medical man; not as that; but about this will, Scatcherd. I must think if over; I must, indeed.”

      “You need not give yourself the least trouble in the world about my will till I’m dead; not the least. And who knows—maybe, I may be settling your affairs yet; eh, doctor? looking after your niece when you’re dead and gone, and getting a husband for her, eh? Ha! ha! ha!”

      And then, without further speech, the doctor went his way.