injected himself into our lives—”“And has made mine a purgatory for ten years with his tiresome letters,
his wordy reasonings, his acres of tedious evidence,—”“Which you would never read, would never consent to read. Yet in common
fairness he was entitled to a hearing. That hearing would either prove
he was the rightful earl—in which case our course would be plain—or it
would prove that he wasn’t—in which case our course would be equally
plain. I have read his evidences, my lord. I have conned them well,
studied them patiently and thoroughly. The chain seems to be complete,
no important link wanting. I believe he is the rightful earl.”“And I a usurper—a—nameless pauper, a tramp! Consider what you are
saying, sir.”“Father, _if_ he is the rightful earl, would you, could you—that fact
being established—consent to keep his titles and his properties from
him a day, an hour, a minute?”“You are talking nonsense—nonsense—lurid idiocy! Now, listen to me. I
will make a confession—if you wish to call it by that name. I did not
read those evidences because I had no occasion to—I was made familiar
with them in the time of this claimant’s father and of my own father
forty years ago. This fellow’s predecessors have kept mine more or less
familiar with them for close upon a hundred and fifty years. The truth
is, the rightful heir did go to America, with the Fairfax heir or about
the same time—but disappeared—somewhere in the wilds of Virginia, got
married, and began to breed savages for the Claimant market; wrote no
letters home; was supposed to be dead; his younger brother softly took
possession; presently the American did die, and straightway his eldest
product put in his claim—by letter—letter still in existence—and died
before the uncle in-possession found time—or maybe
inclination—to—answer. The infant son of that eldest product grew
up—long interval, you see—and _he_ took to writing letters and
furnishing evidences. Well, successor after successor has done the
same, down to the present idiot. It was a succession of paupers; not
one of them was ever able to pay his passage to England or institute
suit. The Fairfaxes kept their lordship alive, and so they have never
lost it to this day, although they live in Maryland; their friend lost
his by his own neglect. You perceive now, that the facts in this case
bring us to precisely this result: morally the American tramp _is_
rightful earl of Rossmore; legally he has no more right than his dog.
There now—are you satisfied?”There was a pause, then the son glanced at the crest carved in the
great oaken mantel and said, with a regretful note in his voice:“Since the introduction of heraldic symbols,—the motto of this house
has been _Suum cuique_—to every man his own. By your 

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