“What did Lord Mount Severn do with the money?”

“I do not know,” replied Mr. Carlyle.  “I am not cognizant of Lord Mount Severn’s private affairs.”

Significant murmurs arose.  “Strange that the earl should stop two or three months at a place that wasn’t his.”

“It may appear so to you, but allow me to explain,” returned Mr. Carlyle.  “The earl expressed a wish to pay East Lynne a few days’ visit, by way of farewell, and I acceded.  Before the few days were over, he was taken ill, and remained, from that time, too ill to quit it.  This very day—­this day, gentlemen, as we stand here, was at length fixed for his departure.”

“And you tell us you bought the furniture?”

“Everything as it stands.  You need not doubt my word, for the proofs will be forthcoming.  East Lynne was in the market for sale; I heard of it, and became the purchaser—­just as I might have bought an estate from any of you.  And now, as this is my house, and you have no claim upon me, I shall be obliged to you to withdraw.”

“Perhaps you’ll claim the horses and carriages next, sir,” cried the man with the hooked nose.

Mr. Carlyle raised his head haughtily.  “What is mine is mine, legally purchased and paid for—­a fair, just price.  The carriages and horses I have nothing to do with; Lord Mount Severn brought them down with him.”

“And I have got a safe watcher over them in the out premises, to see as they don’t run away,” nodded the man, complacently; “and if I don’t mistake, there’s a safe watcher over something else upstairs.”

“What a cursed scoundrel Mount Severn was.”

“Whatever he may have been, it does not give you the right to outrage the feelings of his daughter,” warmly interrupted Mr. Carlyle; “and I should have thought that men, calling themselves Englishmen, would have disdained the shame.  Allow me, Lady Isabel,” he added, imperatively taking her hand to lead her from the room.  “I will remain and deal with this business.”

But she hesitated and stopped.  The injury her father had done these men was telling painfully on her sense of right, and she essayed to speak a word of apology, of sorrow; she thought she ought to do so; she did not like them to deem her quite heartless.  But it was a painful task, and the color went and came in her pale face, and her breath was labored with the excess of her tribulation.

“I am very sorry,” she stammered; and with the effort of speaking, emotion quite got the better of her, and she burst into tears.  “I did not know anything of all this; my father’s affairs were not spoken of before me.  I believe I have not anything; if I had, I would divide it amongst you as equally as I could.  But, should the means ever be in my power—­should money ever be mine, I will thankfully pay all your claims.”

All your claims!  Lady Isabel little thought what that “all” would comprise.  However, such promises, made at such a moment, fell heedlessly upon the ear.  Scarcely one present but felt sympathy and sorrow for her, and Mr. Carlyle drew her from the room.  He closed the door upon the noisy crew, and then sobs came forth hysterically.