"Mr. Grey," said Gilbert.
"That's my name," said the other, who had not yet taken particular notice of the youth who addressed him. But, as he spoke, he looked at him, and instantly recognized him. Gilbert could see that he did by his sudden start, and expression of surprise and annoyance. He couldn't understand how the New York bootblack had been metamorphosed into the well-dressed and gentlemanly-looking young clerk. He regretted so soon acknowledging his name, and marveled how Gilbert could have learned it.
"What business have you with me, young man?" he continued, formally.
"I have wanted to meet you for a long time," said Gilbert.
"Indeed!" said his uncle, with a sneer. "I am rather surprised to hear this, not having, to my knowledge, ever had the honor of seeing you before."
"I am your nephew," said Gilbert, bluntly.
"Then he knows," said Mr. Grey to himself, rather disturbed.
"I confess," he said, in the same sarcastic tone, "I am slightly disturbed at being claimed as a near relative by a stranger whom I happen to encounter in the street. May I ask how you happen to be my nephew?"
"I am the son of your older brother, John," said Gilbert.
"That can hardly be, young man. My brother had but one son, and he died."