He paused, watching Piers’ face.  His own had not waxed more spiritual of late years, nor had his demeanour become more likely to inspire confidence; but he was handsome, in a way, and very fluent, very suave.

“Be it so,” replied Piers frankly; “I shall be glad of the money, I confess.”

“To be sure!  You shall have it with the least possible delay.  And, Piers, it has struck us, my dear fellow, that you might like to choose a volume or two of the good old man’s library as a memento.  We beg you will do so.  We beg you will do it at once, before you leave.”

“Thank you.  I should like the Dante he used to carry in his pocket.”

“A most natural wish, Piers.  Take it by all means.  Nothing else, you think?”

“Yes.  You once told me that you had seen a portrait of my mother.  Do you think it still exists?”

“I will inquire about it,” answered Daniel gravely.  “It was a framed photograph, and at one time—­many years ago—­used to stand on his writing-table.  I will inquire, my dear boy.”

Next, Alexander sought a private colloquy with his disinherited brother.

“Look here, Piers,” he began bluffly, “it’s a cursed shame!  I’m hanged if it isn’t!  If we weren’t so solemn, my boy, I should quote Bumble about the law.  Of course it’s the grossest absurdity, and as far as I’m concerned——.  By Jove, Piers!” he cried, with sudden change of subject, “if you knew the hard times Biddy and I have been going through!  Eh, but she’s a brick, is Biddy; she sent you her love, old boy, and that’s worth something, I can tell you.  But I was going to say that you mustn’t suppose I’ve forgotten about the debt.  You shall be repaid as soon as ever we realise this property; you shall, Piers!  And, what’s more, you shall be repaid with interest; yes, three per cent.  It would be cursed meanness if I didn’t.”

“The fifty pounds I shall be glad of,” said Piers.  “I want no interest.  I’m not a money-lender.”

“We won’t quarrel about that,” rejoined Alexander, with a merry look.  “But come now, why don’t you let a fellow hear from you now and then?  What are you doing?  Going back among the Muscovites?”

“Straight back to Odessa, yes.”

“I may look you up there some day, if Biddy can spare me for a few weeks.  A glimpse of the bear—­it might be useful to me.  Terrible savages I suppose?”

Piers laughed impatiently, and gave no other answer.

“Well, the one thing I really wanted to say, Piers—­you must let me say it—­I, for one, shall take a strong stand about your moral rights in this business here, Of course your claim is every bit as good as ours; only a dunder-headed jackass would see it in any other way.  Daniel quite agrees with me.  The difficulty will be that woman.  A terrible woman!  She regards you as sealed for perdition by the mere fact of your birth.  But you will hear from us, old boy, be sure of that.  Give me your Muscovite address.”