Derrington sat down and leaned his elbows on the table. His temper was rising, as he was not accustomed to be treated in this off-hand way. "Come, sir, let us understand one another. State the situation so as to clear the ground for a proper argument." "Certainly," said George, with frigid politeness. "You know who I am, I understand." "No, I don't. So far as I know you are George Brendon. I met you at Mrs. Ward's, and----" "And were good enough to hold a long conversation with me," finished George, smartly. "I see, sir, it is necessary for me to be explicit." "It's the best course," rejoined Derrington, looking at him with hard eyes and secretly admiring his self-control. "Then I have to state that my name is George Vane, and that I am the son of Percy Vane and Rosina Lockwood." "Indeed! What proof have you of this?" "The evidence of my nurse, Jane Fraser, who attended to me when my father, your eldest son, was alive. The testimony of my former guardian, Mr. Ireland, who took charge of me after the death of my mother's father. Finally, my certificate of birth, which I will show you whenever you choose." Derrington was confounded by this calm answer. He would have blustered, but George's politeness gave him no chance of losing his temper, and without fuel it would not blaze up. "You seem to be well provided with proofs," said he, grimly. "Let us admit, for the sake of argument, that you are my grandson. But the marriage----" "Ah, that is the difficult point! And it is unpleasant for me to talk of the subject. In justice to the memory of my mother I hold that there was a marriage." "And in justice to my family I hold that there was none." "In that case, Lord Derrington, we join issue." "You are quite a lawyer, sir," sneered the old man. "I thought of studying for the bar at one time." "Indeed, and why did you not?" "I had no money to pay my fees," said George, coldly. The old lord winced. He could not but admire his pluck, and, aware that the young fellow was his own flesh and blood, regretted that he should lack any chance of embarking on what promised to be a brilliant career. "You could have had money had you chosen," said he, roughly. "I know. For that reason I changed my name to Brendon." "Well," said Derrington, irritably, "let us come to the point. You say you are my grandson. I admit that, as I am aware of what evidence you can bring forward. But I decline to admit that you are my heir. The onus of proof lies with you." "I am prepared to discover the proof if your lordship will behave in an honorable manner." "What!" roared Derrington, rising with a fierce look. "Do you mean to say, you jackanapes, that I am behaving dishonorably?"