"I do not know what right you have, my lord, to come here to alarm and annoy me. If the matter you have to tell me is important about Melville, I would refer you to my brother Ralph, and Mr. Paget, who is my dear father's executor."
Piers, who had been watching the whole scene, now came hastily forward.
"Ralph has gone into the Wells market, and Joyce has no one at home but me to take care of her. She does not wish you to stay, and you ought to see that, and go away."
"You had better try the effect of one of your crutches on me, my boy! I am not going away, at present."
Piers reddened, and was beginning an angry rejoinder, when Joyce said, in a low tone:
"Go and stand at the further end of the hall, Piers, and I will go into the porch. If I want you I will call, but do not let mother know anyone is here. Now," she said, turning to Lord Maythorne, "we will go into the porch, if you please, and you can tell me about Melville."
"Well," Lord Maythorne said. "I had an interest in your brother, and I should have pulled him through his troubles, if it had not been for the meddling interference of a kinsman of mine, a young fellow—great in his own eyes—who cants like any old woman, and can turn up the whites of his eyes with any Methodist in the land. He made a nice mess of it for your brother owes me the money, and if he had left us alone we should have arranged matters. As it was the whole story came out, your brother was 'sent down' and those sharks the tradespeople, poured bills upon your father's head."
"Yes," Joyce said, "which my father, my dear father, paid. What does Melville owe you?"
"A pretty round sum, but I would let it rest at five hundred pounds."
"Five hundred! Oh! it is impossible we could pay that. I will ask Mr. Watson and Mr. Paget——"