he knew
anything of what happened about that ten pounds, and do you know what
he told me?"

"No, I don't, and I don't want to."

"But I really must beg your attention: he told me that the day
following the fair your cousin George came to the bank with ten
pounds, and told him how you had spent the ten pounds I gave you to
pay in, and that he brought the money, his own savings, to replace
what you had gambled away; and Bellamy added that, under all the
circumstances, he did not feel justified in placing it to my credit.
What have you to say to that?"

"What have I to say? I have to say that I don't believe a word of it.
If George had meant to do me a good turn he would have paid the money
in and said nothing to Bellamy about it. Why won't you trust me a
little more, father? I tell you that you are turning me into a
scoundrel. I am being twisted up into a net of lies till I am obliged
to lie myself to keep clear of ruin. I know what this sneak is at; he
wants to work you into cutting me out of the property which should be
mine by right. He knows your weaknesses----"

"My weaknesses, sir--my weaknesses!" thundered his father, striking
his gold-headed cane on to the stones; "what do you mean by that?"

"Hush, uncle, he meant nothing," broke in George.

"Meant nothing! Then for an idle speech it is one that may cost him
dear. Look you here, Philip Caresfoot, I know very well that our
family has been quite as remarkable for its vices as its virtues, but
for the last two hundred and fifty years we have been gentlemen, and
you are not a gentleman; we have not been thieves, and you have proved
yourself a thief; we have spoken the truth, and you are, what you are
so fond of calling your cousin, who is worth two of you, a liar. Now
listen. However imperious I may have grown in my old age, I can still
respect the man who thwarts me even though I hate him; but I despise
the man who deceives me, as I despise you, my dear son Philip--and I
tell you this, and I beg you to lay it to heart, that if ever again I
find that you have deceived me, by Heaven I will disinherit you in
favour of--_oh, oh!_" and the old man fell back against the grey wall,
pressing his hands to his breast and with the cold perspiration
starting on to his pallid countenance.

Both the lads sprang forward, but before they reached him he had
recovered himself.

"It is nothing," he said, in his ordinary gentle voice, "a trifling
indisposition. I wish you bo