ooked at it curiously; and began rehearsing mentally a
private lecture for his wife, for acting upon her own responsibility.

The seal was broken. The stiff writing-paper of the outer cover revealed
a second cover of stiff writing-paper precisely similar to the first;
but on this last there was no superscription. It was tied round with
fine white twine. Lionel cut it, Tynn and Mrs. Tynn waited with the
utmost eagerness; even Mrs. Verner's eyes were open wider than usual.

Alas! for the hopes of Lionel. The parcel contained nothing but a glove,
and a small piece of writing-paper, folded once. Lionel unfolded it, and
read the following lines:--

"This glove has come into my possession. When I tell you that I know
where it was found and how you lost it, you will not wonder at the shock
the discovery has been to me. I hush it up, Lionel, for your late
father's sake, as much as for that of the name of Verner. I am about to
seal it up that it may be given to you after my death; and you will then
know why I disinherit you. S.V."

Lionel gazed on the lines like one in a dream. They were in the
handwriting of his uncle. Understand them, he could not. He took up the
glove--a thick, fawn-coloured riding-glove--and remembered it for one of
his own. When he had lost it, or where he had lost it, he knew no more
than did the table he was standing by. He had worn dozens of these
gloves in the years gone by, up to the period when he had gone in
mourning for John Massingbird, and, subsequently, for his uncle.

"What is it, Lionel?"

Lionel put the lines in his pocket, and pushed the glove toward Mrs.
Verner. "I do not understand it in the least," he said. "My uncle
appears to have found the glove somewhere, and he writes to say that he
returns it to me. The chief matter that concerns us is"--turning his
eyes on the servants--"that it is not the codicil!"

Mrs. Tynn lifted her hands. "How one may be deceived!" she uttered. "Mr.
Lionel, I'd freely have laid my life upon it."

"It was not exactly my place to speak, sir: to give my opinion
beforehand," interposed Tynn; "but I was sure that was not the lost
codicil, by the very look of it. The codicil might have been about that
size, and it had a big seal like that; but it was different in
appearance."

"All that puzzled me was, how it could have got into the shirt-drawer,"
cried Mrs. Tynn. "As it has turned out not to be the codicil, of course
there's no mystery about that. It may