"What is the lie to-day?" Sir Geoffrey enquired. "Has Ralph been tapping you again? Don't strain your imagination too much."
"I won't," said Melville. "I want some more money for myself, and I think you will give it me."
"I shall do nothing of the kind," said Sir Geoffrey; "you presume too much." He closed his lips with a snap, but as Melville did not reply at once, he went on in the same even tone that exasperated his nephew so intensely. "I tell you what I will do, Melville, if you like. After all, if I am to pay the piper I have some right to suggest the tune. I will give you an allowance on condition that you stop away altogether."
"How do you mean?" said Melville.
"Give you an allowance to be drawn by yourself at regular intervals, so that you will be spared the trouble of making these irregular applications."
Melville was completely deceived by the way his uncle spoke. He considered the proposal seriously, as he believed it to be made.
"How much will you make it?"
"Ten pounds a month, to be drawn in person at, say, Botany Bay," said Sir Geoffrey, looking at him over the top of the paper.
Melville was furious, and only kept control over himself by an effort.
"You are pleased to be facetious," he replied, "but I warn you I am not in the mood to enjoy a joke to-day. Fortunately, I am in a position to suggest terms as well. I know something which you want kept dark. Having seen the lady, I'm not surprised at your desire to suppress the fact of her existence, for she is not an ideal ornament for the head of your table. I will accept a hundred and twenty pounds now, and hold my tongue about her while that lasts."