rtain hour.

At the hour named he drew up at Buston Hall in a fly from Buntingford
Station, and was told by Matthew, the old butler, that his master was at
home. If Captain Mountjoy would step into the drawing-room Mr. Prosper
should be informed. Mountjoy did as he was bidden, and after half an
hour he was joined by Mr. Prosper. "You have received a letter from my
father," he began by saying.

"A very long letter," said the Squire of Buston.

"I dare say; I did not see it, and have in fact very little to say as to
its contents. I do not know, indeed, what they were."

"The letter refers to my nephew, Mr. Henry Annesley."

"I suppose so. What I have to say refers to Mr. Henry Annesley also."

"You are kind,--very kind."

"I don't know about that; but I have come altogether at my father's
instance, and I think, indeed, that, in fairness, I ought to tell you
the truth as to what took place between me and your nephew."

"You are very good; but your father has already given me his
account,--and I suppose yours."

"I don't know what my father may have done, but I think that you ought
to desire to hear from my lips an account of the transaction. An untrue
account has been told to you."

"I have heard it all from your own brother."

"An untrue account has been told to you. I attacked your nephew."

"What made you do that?" asked the squire.

"That has nothing to do with it; but I did."

"I understood all that before."

"But you didn't understand that Mr. Annesley behaved perfectly well in
all that occurred."

"Did he tell a lie about it afterward?"

"My brother no doubt lured him on to make an untrue statement."

"A lie!"

"You may call it so if you will. If you think that Augustus was to have
it all his own way, I disagree with you altogether. In point of fact,
your nephew behaved through the whole of that matter as well as a man
could do. Practically, he told no lie at all. He did just what a man
ought to do, and anything that you have heard to the contrary is
calumnious and false. As I am told that you have been led by my
brother's statement to disinherit your nephew--"

"I have done nothing of the kind."

"I am very glad to hear it. He has not, at any rate, deserved it; and I
have felt it to be my duty to come and tell you."

Then Mountjoy retired, not without hospitality having been coldly
offered by Mr. Prosper, and went back to Buntingford and to London. Now
at last would come, he said to hims