“You won’t get me into a mess, sir, for bringing it out to you first?”

Lionel turned his honest eyes upon her, smiling then.  “Can’t you trust me better than that?  You have known me long enough.”

“So I have, Mr. Lionel.  The mystery is, how it could ever have got into that shirt-drawer!” she continued.  “I can declare that for a good week before my master died, up to the very day that the codicil was looked for, the shirt-drawer was never unlocked, nor the key of it out of my pocket.”

She turned to go back to Verner’s Pride, Lionel intending to follow her at once.  He was going out at the gate when he caught the pleased eyes of Lucy Tempest fixed on him.

“I am so glad,” she simply said.  “Do you remember my telling you that you did not look like one who would have to starve on bread-and-cheese.”

Lionel laughed in the joy of his heart.  “I am glad also, Lucy.  The place is mine by right, and it is just that I should have it.”

“I have thought it very unfair, all along, that Verner’s Pride should belong to her husband, and not to you, after—­after what she did to you,” continued Lucy, dropping her voice to a whisper.

“Things don’t go by fairness, Lucy, in this world,” said he, as he went through the gate.  “Stay,” he said, turning back from it, a thought crossing his mind.  “Lucy, oblige me by not mentioning this to my mother or Decima.  It may be as well to be sure that we are right, before exciting their hopes.”

Lucy’s countenance fell.  “I will not speak of it.  But, is it not sure to be the codicil?”

“I hope it is,” cordially answered Lionel.

Mrs. Tynn had got back before him.  She came forward and encountered him in the hall, her bonnet still on.

“I have told my mistress, sir, that I had found what I believed to be the codicil, and had took it off straight to you.  She was not a bit angry; she says she hopes it is it.”

Lionel entered.  Mrs. Verner, who was in a semi-sleepy state, having been roused up by Mary Tynn from a long nap after a plentiful luncheon, received Lionel graciously—­first of all asking him what he would take—­it was generally her chief question—­and then inquiring what the codicil said.

“I have not opened it,” replied Lionel.

“No!” said she, in surprise.  “Why did you wait?”

He laid it on the table beside her.  “Have I your cordial approval to open it, Mrs. Verner?”

“You are ceremonious, Lionel.  Open it at once; Verner’s Pride belongs to you, more than to Fred; and you know I have always said so.”

Lionel took up the deed.  His finger was upon the seal when a thought crossed him; ought he to open it without further witnesses?  He spoke his doubt aloud to Mrs. Verner.

“Ring the bell and have in Tynn,” said she; “his wife also; she found it.”

Lionel rang.  Tynn and his wife both came in, in obedience to the request.  Tynn looked at it curiously; and began rehearsing mentally a private lecture for his wife, for acting upon her own responsibility.