"I little thought," he murmured, "that I should find in Melville's sister any one so charming, and I confess that I am _bouleverse_ at once. Nay, do not look so sternly at me." "I do not know what right you have, my lord, to come here to alarm and annoy me. If the matter you have to tell me is important about Melville, I would refer you to my brother Ralph, and Mr. Paget, who is my dear father's executor." Piers, who had been watching the whole scene, now came hastily forward. "Ralph has gone into the Wells market, and Joyce has no one at home but me to take care of her. She does not wish you to stay, and you ought to see that, and go away." "You had better try the effect of one of your crutches on me, my boy! I am not going away, at present." Piers reddened, and was beginning an angry rejoinder, when Joyce said, in a low tone: "Go and stand at the further end of the hall, Piers, and I will go into the porch. If I want you I will call, but do not let mother know anyone is here. Now," she said, turning to Lord Maythorne, "we will go into the porch, if you please, and you can tell me about Melville." "Well," Lord Maythorne said. "I had an interest in your brother, and I should have pulled him through his troubles, if it had not been for the meddling interference of a kinsman of mine, a young fellow--great in his own eyes--who cants like any old woman, and can turn up the whites of his eyes with any Methodist in the land. He made a nice mess of it for your brother owes me the money, and if he had left us alone we should have arranged matters. As it was the whole story came out, your brother was 'sent down' and those sharks the tradespeople, poured bills upon your father's head." "Yes," Joyce said, "which my father, my dear father, paid. What does Melville owe you?" "A pretty round sum, but I would let it rest at five hundred pounds." "Five hundred! Oh! it is impossible we could pay that. I will ask Mr. Watson and Mr. Paget----" "Pray do nothing of the sort," said Lord Maythorne, with lofty superiority; "it is a mere trifle, but just now it happens to be a little inconvenient. The debts are such, as no _honourable_ man would leave unpaid. I promised Melville to keep them secret, and I have no wish to let the town crier go about with the news, but I naturally judged that on the death of his father, your brother would come into his fortune, and repay me." "I do not think it is possible," Joyce said. "My dear father had so many sons, and it was hard to provide for them. Please let me think about it, and give you an answer. I must consult Ralph, who is in charge here now, till Melville comes home."