"There are a few things I wish to say to you, Melville," he said very slowly, "before we finally part, and I beg you to remember them, as they may prevent any future misunderstanding. For more than thirty years I have treated you as my son, in spite of endless disappointments at your total failure to give me any return in consideration or affection. You have always been utterly selfish, and, as I think, utterly bad. Now I am a rich man, and you may perhaps argue that I am only anticipating the provision I have doubtless made for you in my will. Please understand that that is not the case. Over and above the just expenses of your life up to now you have already had from me many thousand pounds, which have been squandered by you in wanton vice. I do not intend you to have any more. I hold that my money was given to me for some other purpose than that. In point of fact, I have not made my will, but when I choose to do so, you will not be a legatee. You understand perfectly?"
Melville bowed.
"Very good. Now I am giving you this cheque because for once you have done an unselfish action and have lent your brother two-fifths of what you had reason to suppose was the last money you would ever receive from me. I am very, very sorry Ralph asked you for it, but very glad you sent it to him. I repay you on his behalf, and will see that he in turn repays me."
Sir Geoffrey signed the cheque and gave it to Melville.
"I have left it open so that you may obtain the money in the morning. This, too, is your property," and he gave him Ralph's letter, which Melville had forgotten.
Then Sir Geoffrey rose.
"This is a final parting, Melville," he said solemnly, "and I wish to heaven it were not so. If in these last few weeks I had any reason to hope you had been trying to be a better man I might have been more harsh to-night, but not so relentless. But the money I gave you the other day, apart from this hundred pounds, has gone in gambling as all the rest has gone, and as everything else I might give you would go. And I declare now, upon my word of honour as a gentleman, that I hold myself free of you at last. From whatever you may do in the future to bring shame upon your family I, in their name, declare we are absolved, and you must look for no more help or countenance from us. And now I will ask you to go. You can walk to the station, and will not have long to wait for a train to town."
And opening the French windows on to the lawn, Sir Geoffrey stood with set lips and stern eyes until his nephew disappeared among the shrubbery that fringed the drive.
Outside, Melville drew a deep breath.
"The hysterical old idiot!" he said, half audibly; but his fingers trembled as he placed the cheque in his inner pocket, and he was more nervous than he thought himself capable of being. "Still, I've got a hundred pounds, and as for the row which, I suppose, is bound to follow when the old man finds out the truth—that can rip for the present. I'm glad he didn't cross the cheque. There wouldn't have been much change out of it for me if I'd had to pay it into my account, because I'm so overdrawn, and, what's more, it might be stopped if Ralph turned up early to-morrow. Gad! I'll go to the bank at nine."