"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 wish to do me an injury. It must be told, so come along. Mr. Greenwood had better come also." Then he left the room, and the two men followed him. They went away to the smoking-room, leaving Mr. Grey with Miss Scarborough. "Am I to know nothing about it?" said Miss Scarborough.