ndon, or anywhere." Mr. Grey very
sententiously advised him at any rate not to go up to London.

The hour came, and Mr. Grey, with Merton and the clerk, disappeared
up-stairs. They were summoned by Miss Scarborough, who seemed to feel
heavily the awful solemnity of the occasion. "I am sure he is going to
do something very dreadful this time," she whispered to Mr. Grey, who
seemed himself to be a little awe-struck, and did not answer her.

At two o'clock they all met again at lunch and Mr. Grey was silent, and
in truth very unhappy. Merton and the clerk were also silent, as was
Miss Scarborough,--silent as death. She, indeed, knew nothing, but the
other three knew as much as Mr. Scarborough could or would tell them.
Mountjoy was there also, and in the middle of the meal broke out
violently: "Why the mischief don't you tell me what it is that my father
has said to you?"

"Because I do not believe a word of his story," said Mr. Grey.

"Oh, Mr Grey!" ejaculated Miss Scarborough.

"I do not believe a word of his story," repeated Mr. Grey. "Your
father's intelligence is so high, and his principles so low, that there
is no scheme which he does not think that he cannot carry out against
the established laws of his country. His present tale is a made-up
fable."

"What do you say, Merton?" asked Mountjoy.

"It looks to me to be true," said Merton. "But I am no lawyer."

"Why don't you tell me what it is?" said Mountjoy.

"I cannot tell you," said Grey, "though he commissioned me to do so.
Greenwood there will tell you." Greenwood was the name of the clerk.
"But I advise you to take him with you to your own room. And Mr. Merton
would, I am sure, go with you. As for me, it would be impossible that I
should do credit in the telling of it to a story of which I do not
believe a single word."

"Am I not to know?" asked Miss Scarborough, plaintively.

"Your nephew will tell you," said Mr. Grey,--"or Mr. Merton; or Mr.
Greenwood can do so, if he has permission from Mr. Scarborough. I would
rather tell no one. It is to me incredible." With that he got up and
walked away.

"Now then, Merton," said Mountjoy, rising from his chair.

"Upon my word I hardly know what to do," said Merton.

"You must come and tell me this wonderful tale. I suppose that in some
way it does affect my interests?"

"It affects your interests very much."

"Then I think I may say that I certainly shall believe it. My father at
present would not wis