"You're sure they are the right people?" he said after a pause.
"My mother remembers Mrs. Melrose twenty years ago; and the daughter, if it weren't that she's little more than skin and bone, would be the image of Melrose--on a tiny scale. Now, look here! this is their story."
The young man settled down to it, telling it just as it had been told to him, until toward the end a tolerably hot indignation forced its way, and he used some strong language with regard to Melrose, under which Faversham sat silent.
"I've no doubt he's told you the same lies he's told everybody else!" exclaimed Tatham, after waiting a little for comments that were slow in coming.
"I was quite aware they were alive," said Faversham, slowly.
"And I have already appealed to Melrose to behave reasonably toward them."
"Reasonably! Good heavens!" Tatham had flushed in his turn. "A man is bound to behave rather more than 'reasonably'--toward his daughter, anyway--I don't care what the mother had done. I tell you the girl's a real beauty, or will be, when she's properly fed and dressed. She's a girl anybody might be proud of. And there he's been wallowing in wealth, while his child has been starving. And threatening to stop their wretched allowance! Well, you know as well as I, what public opinion will be, if these facts get about. Public opinion is pretty strong already. But, by George, when this is added to the rest! Can't you persuade him to behave himself before it all gets into the papers? It will get into them of course. There the poor things are, and we mean to stand by them. There must be a proper provision for the wife--that the courts can get out of him. And as to the girl--why, she is his heiress!--and ought to be acknowledged as such."
Tatham turned suddenly, as he spoke, and fixed a pair of very straight blue eyes on his companion.
"Mr. Melrose is not bound to make her his heir," said Faversham quietly.
"Not bound! I daresay. But who else is there? He's not very likely to leave it to any of _us_," said Tatham with a grin. "And he's not the kind of gentleman to be endowing missions. Who is there?" he repeated.
"Mr. Melrose will please himself," said Faversham, coldly. "Of that we may be sure. Now then--what is it exactly that these ladies have come to ask?" he continued, in a sharp businesslike tone. "You are aware of course that Mrs. Melrose left her husband of her own free will--without any provocation?"