“I mean that were I you I should go fair and softly; for, as you remarked just now in your own classic tongue, Henry is a ‘nasty customer to tackle.’ Well, I happen to know that he is up and alone just now, so you cannot have a better opportunity.” Then she rang the bell, which was almost immediately answered by the butler, and added, “Will you be so good, Thomson, as to show Mr. Milward to Sir Henry’s room?” Edward hesitated, for, like another hero, he felt his courage oozing out of his finger-tips. Looking up, he saw Ellen watching him with a little smile, and remembered that to draw back now would mean that for many a long day to come he must be the target of the bitter arrows of her irony. So he set his teeth and went as to a forlorn hope. In another minute he was in the presence of the man whom he came to annihilate. Henry was seated in a chair, against which his crutches were resting, looking out of the window, with an open book upon his knee, and it cannot be said that he appeared pleased on hearing the name of his visitor. Indeed, he was about to tell Thomson that he was engaged, when Edward blundered in behind him, leaving him no option but to shake hands and ask his visitor to sit down. Then ensued this conversation. “How do you do, Graves? I have come to see you on business.” “As well as I can expect, thank you.” A pause. “Beautiful weather, isn’t it?” “It seems fine; but as you have been out, you will know more about it than I do.” Another pause. “The pheasants ought to do well this year; they have had a wonderful fine time for hatching.” “Indeed. I think you said that you wished to speak to me about some business.” “You are not rearing any this season, are you?” “No: I am sorry to say that I have other chicks to hatch at present. But about the business?” “All right, Graves; I am coming to that. The pheasants lead up to it. _Fortiter in modo,_ as Ellen says.” “Does she? Well, it is not a bad motto for her, though it’s wrong. Well, if we have done with the pheasants——” There was yet another pause, and then Edward said suddenly, and with effort: “You are not rearing any pheasants, Graves, because you can’t afford to; in fact, I have just found out that you are bankrupt, and the whole thing is a swindle, and that Ellen won’t have a farthing of her eight thousand pounds. She has sent me up here to talk to you about it.” “Has she? That is _fortiter in modo_ and no mistake. Well, talk on, Mr. Milward. But, before you begin, let me remind you that I asked you to stop and hear what passed after the reading of the will yesterday, and you would not.” “Oh, bother the will! It is a fraud, like everything else in this place. I tell you, Graves——” “One moment. Pray lower your voice, keep your temper, and remember that you are speaking to a gentleman.”