He was a middle-sized dark man, dressed in what seemed to be a seedy caricature of the then prevailing fashion. His coat had once been a bright-claret colour, but was now dull, threadbare, and frayed round the edges of the breast-pocket, out of which peeped the end of a flashy silk handkerchief. He had no shirt-collar apparent; but wore round his neck a dirty blue-satin scarf with two pins, one large and one small, fastened together by a little chain. His trousers were of a staring green shawl-pattern, cut so as to hide nearly all the boot and tightly strapped down, as was the fashion of those days; and the little of his boots visible was broken and shabby. Sir Charles looked at him hard and steadily, then gave a sigh of relief. He had never seen the man before. He pointed to a chair, into which his visitor dropped with an easy swagger; then crossed his legs, and looking at Sir Charles, said familiarly, "And how are _you?_" "You have the advantage of me," said Sir Charles. "I think I have," said the man grinning; "and what's more, I mean to keep it too. Lord, what a precious dance you have led me, to be sure!" "Look here, sir," said Mitford "be good enough to tell me your business, and go. I'm engaged." "Go! Oh, you're on the high jeff, are you? And engaged too! Going to drive your missis out in that pretty little trap I saw at the door? Well, I'm sorry to stop you; but you must." "Must!" "Yes, must. 'Tain't a nice word; but it's the word I want. Must; and I'll tell you why. You recollect Tony Butler?" Sir Charles Mitford's colour, which had returned when he saw that his visitor was a stranger to him, and which had even increased under the insolence of the man's manner, fled at the mention of this name. His face and lips were quite white as he said, "I do indeed." "Yes, I knew you would. Well, he's dead, Tony is." "Thank God!" said Sir Charles; "he was a horrible villain." "Yes," said the man pleasantly; "I think I'm with you in both those remarks. It's a good job he's dead; and he _was_ a bad 'un, was Tony, though he was my brother." "Your brother!" "Ah! that's just it. We never met before, because I was in America when you and Tony were so thick together. You see I'm not such a swell as Tony was; and they--him and father, I mean--were glad to get me out of the country for fear I should spoil any of their little games. When I came back, you had given Tony a licking, so far as I could make out, though he'd never tell exactly, and your friendship was all bust up, and he was dreadfully mad with you. And that's how we never came to meet before." "And why have we met now, pray?" said Sir Charles. "What is your business with me?"