'Miss Bessie Sparrow.' The rich brewer ponders for a moment, evidently in no pleasant mood. Then suddenly rings a bell. A servant appears. 'Is my son in the house?' 'Yes, sir.' 'Tell him to come to me instantly.' Saul Fielding waits gravely. Seemingly, he also has found new food for contemplation. Presently young Mr. Million appears. 'You sent for me, sir.' 'Yes, James. Do you know this person?' with a slight wave of the hand in the direction of Saul Fielding, as towards a thing of no consequence. Saul Fielding knows that his mission has failed, but does not resent this contemptuous reference to him. He stands, humble and watchful, before father and son. 'I have seen him,' says young Mr. Million, 'and I should say he is not a desirable person in this house.' 'My opinion exactly. Yet, influenced by some cock-and-a-bull story, he comes here soliciting my assistance to enable him to emigrate. The country would be well rid of him, I am sure; but of course it is out of my power to give such a person a good character to the emigration commissioners.' 'Out of anybody's power, I should say,' assents young Mr. Million gaily. 'To what cock-and-a-bull story do you refer?' 'He tells me--which is news to me--that I have given a free passage ticket to a friend of his, George--George--what did you say?' 'George Naldret, sir.' Saul Fielding supplies the name in a manner perfectly respectful. 'Ay--George Naldret. Such a statement is in itself, of course, a falsehood. Even if I knew George Naldret, which I do not, and desired to assist him, which I do not, the fact of his being engaged to be married to any one of the name of Sparrow--a name which means disgrace in our firm, as you are aware-would be sufficient for me not to do so.' Young Mr. Million steals a look at Saul Fielding, whose face, however, is a mask; and in a hesitating voice says: 'I think I can explain the matter; but it is not necessary for this person to remain. You do not know, perhaps, that he was the chief mover in a strike a few years ago, which threatened to do much mischief.' 'I am not surprised to hear it,' says the rich brewer; 'the opinions he has expressed have prepared me for some such statement concerning him. He would desecrate the Sabbath-day by opening museums and picture-galleries, and he would curtail the liberty of the subject by closing public-houses, and depriving the working man of his beer! Monstrous! monstrous! He has nothing to say for himself, I suppose.' 'No, sir,' answers Saul Fielding, raising his head, and looking steadily at young Mr. Million, 'except that I believed in the truth of what I told you, and that I don't know whether I am sorry or glad that I made the application to you.' The rich brewer has already touched the bell, and the servant comes into the room. 'Show this person to the door,' Mr. Million says haughtily; 'and if he comes again, send for a policeman. He is a dangerous character.'