"I thought of studying for the bar at one time."
"Indeed, and why did you not?"
"I had no money to pay my fees," said George, coldly.
The old lord winced. He could not but admire his pluck, and, aware that the young fellow was his own flesh and blood, regretted that he should lack any chance of embarking on what promised to be a brilliant career. "You could have had money had you chosen," said he, roughly.
"I know. For that reason I changed my name to Brendon."
"Well," said Derrington, irritably, "let us come to the point. You say you are my grandson. I admit that, as I am aware of what evidence you can bring forward. But I decline to admit that you are my heir. The onus of proof lies with you."
"I am prepared to discover the proof if your lordship will behave in an honorable manner."
"What!" roared Derrington, rising with a fierce look. "Do you mean to say, you jackanapes, that I am behaving dishonorably?"
"Extremely so," said Brendon, coldly. "You have had me watched by a detective; you threaten, through him, to have me arrested for a crime of which I am innocent, if I do not give up my attempts to gain my birthright and--" here George leaned forward--"Dorothy Ward. Do you call these actions honorable?"
"How dare you?--how dare you?" was all that Derrington could say.