My uncle leaned back in his chair, and smiled with a contemptuous patience over Doctor Bryerly’s head, as he spoke.

’I don’t know whether I used that expression, sir, but I am speaking merely in a technical sense.  I mean to say, that, whether by mistake or otherwise, you are exercising a power which you don’t lawfully possess, and that the effect of that is to impoverish the estate, and, by so much as it benefits you, to wrong this young lady.’

’I’m a technical defrauder, I see, and your manner conveys the rest.  I thank my God, sir, I am a very different man from what I once was.’  Uncle Silas was speaking in a low tone, and with extraordinary deliberation.  ’I remember when I should have certainly knocked you down, sir, or tried it, at least, for a great deal less.’

‘But seriously, sir, what do you propose?’ asked Doctor Bryerly, sternly and a little flushed, for I think the old man was stirred within him; and though he did not raise his voice, his manner was excited.

‘I propose to defend my rights, sir,’ murmured Uncle Silas, very grim.  ’I’m not without an opinion, though you are.’

You seem to think, sir, that I have a pleasure in annoying you; you are quite wrong.  I hate annoying anyone—­constitutionally—­I hate it; but don’t you see, sir, the position I’m placed in?  I wish I could please everyone, and do my duty.’

Uncle Silas bowed and smiled.

’I’ve brought with me the Scotch steward from Tolkingden, your estate, Miss, and if you let us we will visit the spot and make a note of what we observe, that is, assuming that you admit waste, and merely question our law.’

’If you please, sir, you and your Scotchman shall do no such thing; and, bearing in mind that I neither deny nor admit anything, you will please further never more to present yourself, under any pretext whatsoever, either in this house or on the grounds of Bartram-Haugh, during my lifetime.’

Uncle Silas rose up with the same glassy smile and scowl, in token that the interview was ended.

‘Good-bye, sir,’ said Doctor Bryerly, with a sad and thoughtful air, and hesitating for a moment, he said to me, ’Do you think, Miss, you could afford me a word in the hall?’

‘Not a word, sir,’ snarled Uncle Silas, with a white flash from his eyes.

There was a pause.

‘Sit where you are, Maud.’

Another pause.

’If you have anything to say to my ward, sir, you will please to say it here.’

Doctor Bryerly’s dark and homely face was turned on me with an expression of unspeakable compassion.

’I was going to say, that if you think of any way in which I can be of the least service, Miss, I’m ready to act, that’s all; mind, any way.’

He hesitated, looking at me with the same expression as if he had something more to say; but he only repeated—­