"Oh, it does not?" said the gentleman with the pompous professional air, upon whom this indifference seemed to have a somewhat irritating effect. "Well, there’s nothing very grand about it—except the magnificent and wholesale lying! And perhaps also the incredible simplicity of the people who allowed themselves to be imposed on. Why, in Canada he called himself Lord Bethune!—was there no second-hand copy of Burke anywhere about to show them there was no such peerage in existence? Lord Bethune haunting newspaper-offices, and borrowing money right and left, because of his Scotch name, and his bogus literary schemes! His sham estates—his sham lineage—his sham coat of arms: did nobody think of turning up a book? ’Stand Fast, Craig-Royston!’ Craig-Royston!——" He crossed the room and took down a volume from one of the shelves. "There," he said, putting the book on the table, "there is Black’s Guide to Scotland. Can you find out where Craig-Royston is? Turn up the index." Mechanically and carelessly Vincent did as he was bid. "No, I don’t see it there," he said. "I should think not! Nor Balloray either: can you find Balloray? An easy thing to claim estates that don’t exist; and wear armorial bearings of your own invention! Cadzow—oh, yes, Cadzow you will find—Cadzow undoubtedly exists; but most people thought that Cadzow belonged to the Duke of Hamilton. Or does Lord Bethune claim to be Marquis of Douglas and Earl of Angus as well?" He paused; so Vincent was bound to answer. "I don’t know that it concerns me much," the young man said, repeating his former phrase. "Even if all you say is true, what then? You sent me out to see the world, and take people as I found them. Well, I found a good many liars; and one more or less doesn’t matter much, does it?" But Harland Harris was no fool; he instantly divined wherein lay the secret of Vincent’s real or assumed indifference. "Ah, I understand," said he. "I understand. You don’t care so much about him. You are willing to let him go. You think you can dissociate him from his granddaughter. He may be a swindler—but you fancy she manages to keep aloof—" The young man grew somewhat pale. "Take care," said he, and he held up his hand as if he would enjoin silence. "Words that are said cannot be unsaid." His father regarded him for a second, and then he endeavoured to bring a little more friendliness and consideration into his manner.