Janet interposed her thanks, declining to take the dog, but he dwelt on the dog’s charms, his youth, stature, appearance, fitness, and grandeur, earnestly.  I had to relieve her apprehensions by questioning where the dog was.

‘In Germany,’ he said.

It was not improbable, nor less so that the dog was in Pomerania likewise.

The entry of my aunt Dorothy, followed by my grandfather, was silent.

‘Be seated,’ the old man addressed us in a body, to cut short particular salutations.

My father overshadowed him with drooping shoulders.

Janet wished to know whether she was to remain.

‘I like you by me always,’ he answered, bluff and sharp.

‘We have some shopping to do,’ my aunt Dorothy murmured, showing she was there against her will.

‘Do you shop out of London?’ said my father; and for some time he succeeded in making us sit for the delusive picture of a comfortable family meeting.

My grandfather sat quite still, Janet next to him.  ’When you’ve finished, Mr. Richmond,’ he remarked.

’Mr. Beltham, I was telling Miss Beltham that I join in the abuse of London exactly because I love it.  A paradox! she says.  But we seem to be effecting a kind of insurance on the life of the things we love best by crying them down violently.  You have observed it?  Denounce them—­they endure for ever!  So I join any soul on earth in decrying our dear London.  The naughty old City can bear it.’

There was a clearing of throats.  My aunt Dorothy’s foot tapped the floor.

’But I presume you have done me the honour to invite me to this conference on a point of business, Mr. Beltham?’ said my father, admonished by the hint.

‘I have, sir,’ the squire replied.

’And I also have a point.  And, in fact, it is urgent, and with your permission, Mr. Beltham, I will lead the way.’

’No, sir, if you please.

I’m a short speaker, and go to it at once, and I won’t detain you a second after you’ve answered me.’

My father nodded to this, with the conciliatory comment that it was business-like.

The old man drew out his pocket-book.

‘You paid a debt,’ he said deliberately, ’amounting to twenty-one thousand pounds to my grandson’s account.’

’Oh! a debt!  I did, sir.  Between father and boy, dad and lad; debts! . . . but use your own terms, I pray you.’

’I don’t ask you where that money is now.  I ask you to tell me where you got it from.’

‘You speak bluntly, my dear sir.’

‘You won’t answer, then?’