and made her Will. The view she took of
her position was so thoroughly sound and
sensible, that I was relieved of all necessity for
advising her. My responsibility began and
ended with shaping her instructions into the
proper legal form. Before Sir John had been a
fortnight in his grave, the future of his daughter
had been most wisely and most affectionately
provided for.

The Will remained in its fireproof box at my
office, through more years than I like to reckon
up. It was not till the summer of eighteen
hundred and forty-eight that I found occasion
to look at it again under very melancholy
circumstances.

At tbe date I have mentioned, the doctors
pronounced the sentence on poor Lady Verinder,
which was literally a sentence of death. I was
the first person whom she informed of her
situation; and I found her anxious to go over
her Will again with me.

It was impossible to improve the provisions
relating to her daughter. But, in the lapse of
time, her wishes in regard to certain minor
legacies, left to different relatives, had undergone
some modification; and it became necessary to
add three or four Codicils to the original
document. Having done this at once, for fear
of accidents, I obtained her ladyship's permission
to embody her recent instructions in a
second Will. My object was to avoid certain
inevitable confusions and repetitions which now
disfigured the original document, and which, to
own the truth, grated sadly on my professional
sense of the fitness of things.

The execution of this second Will has been
described by Miss Clack, who was so obliging
as to witness it. So far as regarded Rachel
Verinder's pecuniary interests, it was, word for
word, the exact counterpart of the first Will.
The only changes introduced related to the
appointment of a guardian, and to certain
provisions concerning that appointment, which
were made under my advice. On Lady Verinder's
death, the Will was placed in the hands of my
proctor to be " proved" (as the phrase is) in
the usual way.

In about three weeks from that time—as
well as I can remember —the first warning
reached me of something unusual going on
under the surface. I happened to be looking
in at my friend the proctor's office, and I
observed that he received me with an appearance
of greater interest than usual.

"I have some news for you," he said. " What
do you think I heard at Doctors'-commons this
morning? Lady Verinder's Will has been asked
for, and examined, already!"

This was news indeed! There was absolutely
nothing whicli could be contested in the Will;
and there was nobody I could think of who had
the slightest interest in examining it. (I shall
perhaps do well if I explain in this place, for the
benefit of the few people who don't know it
already, that the law allows all Wills to be
examined at Doctors'-commons by anybody
who applies, on the payment of a shilling fee.)

"Did you hear who asked for the Will?" I
inquired.

"Yes; the clerk had no hesitation in telling
me. Mr. Smalley, of the firm of Skipp and
Smalley, asked for it. The Will has not been
copied yet into the great Folio Registers. So
there was no alternative but to depart from the
usual course, and to let him see the original
document. He looked it over carefully, and
made a note in his pocket-book. Have you
any idea of what he wanted with it?"

I shook my head. " I shall find out," I answered,
" before I am a day older." With that,
I went back at once to my own office.

If any other firm of solicitors had been
concerned in this unaccountable examination of
my deceased client's Will, I might have found
some difficulty in making the necessary discovery.
But I had a hold over Skipp and Smalley
which made my course in this matter a
comparatively easy one. My common law clerk
(a most competent and excellent man) was a
brother of Mr. Smalley's; and, owing to this
sort of indirect connexion with me, Skipp and
Smalley had, for some years past, picked up
the crumbs that fell from my table, in the
shape of cases brought to my office, which, for
various reasons, I did not think it worth while
to undertake. My professional patronage was,
in this way, of some importance to the firm.
I intended, if necessary, to remind them of that
patronage, on the present occasion.

The moment I got back, I spoke to my clerk;
and, after telling him what had happened, I sent
him to his brother's office, " with Mr. Bruff's
compliments, and he would be glad to know why
Messrs. Skipp and Smalley had found it
necessary to examine Lady Verinider's Will."

This message brought Mr. Smalley back to
my office, in company with his brother. He
acknowledged that he had acted under
instructions received from a client. And then
he put it to me, whether it would not be a
breach of professional confidence on his
part to say more.

We had a smart discussion upon that. He
was right, no doubt; and I was  wrong. The
truth is, I was angry and suspicious— and I
insisted on knowing more. Worse still, I
declined to consider any additional information
offered to me, as a secret placed in my keeping:
I claimed perfect freedom to use my own
discretion. Worse even than that, I took  an
unwarrantable advantage of my position.
"Choose, sir," I said to Mr. Smalley, " between
the risk of losing your client's business, and the
risk of losing Mine." Quite indefensible, I
admit—an act of tyranny, and nothing less.
Like other tyrants, I carried my point. Mr.
Smalley chose his alternative, without a
moment's hesitation. He smiled resignedly, and
gave up the name of his client:

Mr. Godfrey Ablewhite.

That was enough for me— I wanted to know
no more.

Having reached this point in my narrative, it