"I'm not a boy at all--I'm your own unhappy brother-in-law, Paul! You
don't believe me, I see."

"Oh, pardon me, it's perfectly clear! you're not your own son, but your
own father--it's a little confusing at first, but no doubt common
enough. I'm glad you mentioned it, though."

"Go on," said Paul bitterly, "make light of it--you fancy you are being
very clever, but you will find out the truth in time!"

"Not without external assistance, I'm afraid," said Paradine calmly. "A
more awful little liar for your age I never saw!"

"I'm tired of this," said Paul. "Only listen to reason and common
sense!"

"Only give me a chance."

"I tell you," protested Paul earnestly, "it's the sober awful truth--I'm
not a boy, it's years since I was a boy--I'm a middle-aged man, thrust
into this, this humiliating form."

"Don't say that," murmured the other; "it's an excellent fit--very
becoming, I assure you."

"Do you want to drive me mad with your clumsy jeers?" cried Paul. "Look
at me. Do I speak, do I behave, like an ordinary schoolboy?"

"I really hope not--for the sake of the rising generation," said Uncle
Marmaduke, chuckling at his own powers of repartee.

"You are very jaunty to-day--you look as if you were well off," said
Paul slowly. "I remember a time when a certain bill was presented to me,
drawn by you, and appearing to be accepted (long before I ever saw it)
by me. I consented to meet it for my poor Maria's sake, and because to
disown my signature would have ruined you for life. Do you remember how
you went down on your knees in my private room and swore you would
reform and be a credit to your family yet? You weren't quite so well
off, or so jaunty then, unless I am very much mistaken."

These words had an extraordinary effect upon Uncle Marmaduke; he turned
ashy white, and his quick eyes shifted restlessly as he half rose from
his chair and threw away his unfinished cigar.

"You young hound!" he said, breathing hard and speaking under his
breath. "How did you get hold of that--that lying story? Your father
must have let it out! Why do you bring up bygones like this? You--you're
a confounded, disagreeable little prig! Who told you to play an
ill-natured trick of this sort on an uncle, who may have been wild and
reckless in his youth--was in fact--but who never, never misused his
relation towards you as--as an uncle?"

"How did I get hold of the story?" said Paul, observing the impression
he had made. "Do y