“This fellow again!” he said under his breath; and he made one stride towards the door, where stood, closing it carefully behind him, while he faced the company, Mr. Gus in his black suit. He was no coward; he faced the young man, whom he had already exasperated, without flinching--putting up his hand with a deprecating, but not undignified, gesture. Paul, who had meant nothing less than to eject him forcibly, came to a sudden stop, and stood hesitating, uncertain, before the self-possessed little figure. What could he do? He was in his house, where discourtesy was a crime. “Keep your temper, Paul Markham,” said the little gentleman; “I mean you no harm. You and I can’t help damaging each other; but for heaven’s sake, this day, and before _them_, let’s settle it with as little disturbance as we can.” “What does this mean?” said Colonel Fleetwood: while the lawyer rested his papers on the table, and looked on, across them, without putting them out of his hand. “I can’t tell what it means,” cried Paul. “This is the second time this man has burst into our company, at the most solemn moment, when my father was dying----” “Mr. Gaveston,” said Lady Markham, in her trembling voice, “I have told you that anything we can do for you, any amends we can make---- But oh, would it not be better to choose another time--to come when we are alone--when there need be no exposure?” “My Lady Markham,” said Gus, advancing to the table, “I don’t know what you mean, but you are under a great mistake. It is no fault of yours, and I am sorry for Paul. I might have been disposed to accept a compromise before I saw the place; but anyhow, compromise or not, I must establish my rights.” “This is the most extraordinary interruption of a family in their own house,” said Colonel Fleetwood. “What does it mean? Isabel, you seem to know him; who is this man?” “That is just what she does not know,” said Gus, calmly; “and what I’ve come to tell you. Nothing can be more easy; I have all the evidence here, which your lawyer can examine at once. I wrote to my father when I arrived, but he took no notice. I am Sir Augustus Markham: Sir William Markham’s eldest son--and heir.” Lady Markham rose up appalled--her lips falling apart, her eyes opened wide in alarm, her hands clasped together. Paul, whose head had been bent down, started, and raised it suddenly, as if he had not heard rightly. “Good God!” cried Colonel Fleetwood. Mr. Scrivener, the lawyer, put down his papers carefully on the table, and rose from his seat. “The man must be out of his senses,” he said.