“You must come and tell me this wonderful tale.  I suppose that in some way it does affect my interests?”

“It affects your interests very much.”

“Then I think I may say that I certainly shall believe it.  My father at present would not wish to do me an injury.  It must be told, so come along.  Mr. Greenwood had better come also.”  Then he left the room, and the two men followed him.  They went away to the smoking-room, leaving Mr. Grey with Miss Scarborough.  “Am I to know nothing about it?” said Miss Scarborough.

“Not from me, Miss Scarborough.  You can understand, that I cannot tell you a story which will require at every word that I should explain my thorough disbelief in your brother.  I have been very angry with him, and he has been more energetic than can have been good for him.”

“Ah me! you will have killed him among you!”

“It has been his own doing.  You, however, had better go to him.  I must return to town this evening.”

“You will stay for dinner?”

“No.  I cannot stay for dinner.  I cannot sit down with Mountjoy,—­who has done nothing in the least wrong,—­because I feel myself to be altogether opposed to his interests.  I would rather be out of the house.”  So saying he did leave the house, and went back to London by train that afternoon.

The meeting that morning, which had been very stormy, cannot be given word by word.  From the moment in which the squire had declared his purpose, the lawyer had expressed his disbelief in all that was said to him.  This Mr. Scarborough had at first taken very kindly; but Mr. Grey clung to his purpose with a pertinacity which had at last beaten down the squire’s good-humor, and had called for the interference of Mr. Merton.  “How can I be quiet?” the squire had said, “when he tells me everything I say is a lie?”

“It is a lie!” said Mr. Grey, who had lost all control of himself.

“You should not say that, Mr. Grey,” said Merton.

“He should spare a man on his death-bed, who is endeavoring to do his duty by his children,” said the man who thus declared himself to be dying.

“I will go away,” said Mr. Grey, rising.  “He has forced me to come here against my will, and has known,—­must have known,—­that I should tell him what I thought.  Even though a man be dying, a man cannot accept what he says on a matter of business such as this unless he believe him.  I must tell him that I believe him or that I do not.  I disbelieve the whole story, and will not act upon it as though I believed it.”  But even after this the meeting was continued, Mr. Grey consenting to sit there and to hear what was said to the end.