“My dear young friend,” said Mr. Fazakerly solemnly, turning round upon Edgar as they entered the library, “you have behaved like an idiot!--I don’t care who tells you otherwise, or if it has been your own unassisted genius which has brought you to this--but you have acted like a fool. It sounds uncivil, but it is true.” “Would you have had me, as he says, carry on the imposture,” said Edgar, with an attempt at a smile. “Would you have had me, knowing who I am----” “Pooh! pooh!” said Mr. Fazakerly. “Pooh! pooh! You don’t in the least know who you are. And that is not your business in the least--it is his. Let him prove what he can; you are Edgar Arden, of Arden, occupying a position which, for my part, I think you ought to have been contented with. To make yourself out to be somebody else is not your business. Sit down, and let me hear what you have to say.” Then the client and the adviser sat down together, and Edgar related all the particulars he had learned. Mr. Fazakerly sobered down out of his hopeful impatience as he listened. He shook his head and said, “Bad, very bad,” at intervals. When he heard what Mrs. Murray had said, and that it was in Arthur Arden’s presence, he gave his head a redoubled shake. “Very--bad--indeed,” and pondered sadly over it all. “If you had but spoken to me first; if you had but spoken to me first!” he cried. “I don’t mean to say I would have advised you to keep it up. An unscrupulous counsellor would have told you, and with truth, that you had every chance in your favour. There was no proof whatever that you were the boy referred to before this Mrs. Murray appeared; and nothing could be easier than to take Mrs. Murray out of the way. But I don’t advise that--imposture is not in my way any more than in yours, Mr. Edgar. But at least I should have insisted upon having a respectable man to deal with, instead of that cold-blooded egotist; and we might have come to terms. It is not your fault. You are behaving most honourably--more than that--Quixotically. You are doing more than any other man would have done--and we could have made terms. There could have been no possible objection to that.” “Yes, I should have objected,” said Edgar; “I do not want to make any terms----” “Then what do you mean to do?” cried Mr. Fazakerly. “It is all very fine to be high-minded in theory, but what are you to do? You have not been brought up to any profession. With your notions, you could never get on in business. What are you to do?” Edgar shook his head. He smiled at the same time with a half-amused indifference, which drove his friend to renewed impatience. “Mr. Edgar,” he said solemnly, “I have a great respect for you. I admire some of your qualities--I would trust you with anything; but you are behaving like a fool----”