Wyvis walked into the room, shut the door behind him, and leaned against it.
"Upon my word," he said, sarcastically, "you will give this lady—whose name I haven't the pleasure of knowing—a very fine idea of our domestic relations. I am not such a brute, I hope, as to drive away my own child from my door; but I certainly should like to know first whether it is my child; and more particularly whether it is my son and heir, as I have no doubt that this young gentleman is endeavoring to persuade you. Did you bring the child here?" he said, turning sharply to Janetta.
"I brought him into the house, certainly," she said, rising from her knees and facing him. "I found him outside your fence; and he told me that his name was Julian Wyvis Brand."
"Pretty evidence," said Mr. Brand, very rudely, as Janetta thought. "Who can tell whether the child is not some beggar's brat that has nothing to do with me?"
"Don't you know your own little boy when you see him?" Janetta demanded, indignantly.
"Not I. I have not set eyes on him since he was a baby. Turn round, youngster, and let me have a look at you."
The child faced him instantly, much as Janetta herself had done. There was a fearless look in the baby face, an innocent, guileless courage in the large dark eyes, which must surely, thought Janetta, touch a father's heart. But Wyvis Brand looked as if it would take a great deal to move him.
"Where do you come from?" said Mr. Brand, sternly.
"From over the sea."
"That's no answer. Where from?—what place?"