As he lifted the ponderous knocker upon Sylvester's door, he remembered vividly the only other occasion upon which he had visited those chambers. With the member for Mallow, too, indiscreet busybody that he was, had he not a reckoning to settle? The choice of him as an instrument of his punishment, which, if it was primarily directed against another, should not leave him wholly unscathed, gave a zest to his malice, and increased firmness to his manner, as he curtly ordered the clerk to take in his card. "Is it an appointment?" this youth had asked dubiously, "because if it isn't----" "Mr. Sylvester will see me," said Oswyn with irritation, "if you will have the goodness to do as you are told, and give him my name." At which the youth had smiled loftily and retired, only to return five minutes later with an air of greater humility and information that the legislator was disengaged. Charles looked up at him from the table at which he was sitting, with an open volume of Hansard before him, coldly waving him to a chair--an offer which Oswyn, mentally damning his superciliousness, ignored. "My business is very brief," he said quickly; "I can explain it standing." "I understand that it is urgent, Mr.--Mr. Oswyn. Otherwise, you know, I am a busy man." "You mean that my call is inconvenient? I can quite imagine it. I should hardly have troubled you if you had not once taken the trouble to send for me--you, perhaps, have forgotten the occurrence; that seemed to give me a sort of right, a claim on your attention." "I recognised it," said Charles gravely, in a tone which implied that, had he not given this nicety the benefit of his liberal consideration, the intruder would never have penetrated so far. "Since that is agreed, may I ask you to explain your business as expeditiously as possible?" Oswyn smiled with some irony; and Sylvester suppressed a little shudder, reflecting that the man's uncouthness almost transgressed the bounds of decency. "I can quote your own words on a previous occasion: it concerns the honour of a friend--the honour of your family, if you like it better." Sylvester shut his volume sharply, glanced up at the other with suppressed irritation. "That is not a matter I can discuss with you," he said at last. "I simply intend you to read," went on Oswyn calmly, "a letter which your brother-in-law wrote to my friend, Philip Rainham, a few weeks before his death." Charles rose from his chair quickly, avoiding the other's face. "I regret that I can't assist you," he said haughtily; "I have no interest whatever in the affairs of the late Mr. Rainham, and I must decline to read your letter." He glanced significantly at the door, not suppressing a slight yawn; it was incredible how this repulsive little artist, with his indelicate propositions, bored him. But Oswyn ignored his gesture; simply laid the missive in question on the table; then he glanced casually at his watch.