ed. However, he doubtless had his reasons. And now, as I
conclude you desire me to act for you, I shall take charge of this will
and lock it up in my safe as soon as I return to the office. On my way,
I shall call at Mr. Burchill's address and just have a word with him.
Tertius, you had better come with me. And--yes, there is another thing
that I should like to have done. Mr. Selwood--are you engaged on any
business?"

"No," replied Selwood, who was secretly speculating on the meaning of
the morning's strange events. "I have nothing to attend to."

"Then will you go to Mr. Barthorpe Herapath's office--in Craven Street,
I think?--and see him personally and tell him that Mr. Benjamin
Halfpenny is in town, has been acquainted with these matters by Mr.
Tertius and Miss Wynne, and would esteem it a favour if he would call
upon him before five o'clock. Thank you, Mr. Selwood. Now, Tertius, you
and I will attend to our business."

Left alone, Peggie Wynne suddenly realized that the world had become a
vastly different world to what it had seemed a few short hours before.
This room, into which Jacob Herapath, bustling and busy, would never
come again, was already a place of dread; nay, the whole house in
which she had spent so many years of comfort and luxury suddenly
assumed a strange atmosphere of distastefulness. It was true that her
uncle had never spent much time in the house. An hour or two in the
morning--yes, but by noon he had hurried off to some Committee at the
House of Commons, and in session time she had never seen him again
that day. But he had a trick of running in for a few minutes at
intervals during the day; he would come for a cup of tea; sometimes he
would contrive to dine at home; whether he was at home or not, his
presence, always alert, masterful, active, seemed to be everywhere in
the place. She could scarcely realize that she would never see him
again. And as she stood looking at his vacant chair she made an effort
to realize what it all really meant to her, and suddenly, for the
first time in her life, she felt the meaning of the usually vague
term--loneliness. In all practical essentials she was absolutely
alone. So far as she knew she had no relations in the world but
Barthorpe Herapath--and there was something--something shadowy and
undefinable--about Barthorpe which she neither liked nor trusted.
Moreover, she had caught a glimpse of Barthorpe's face as he turned
from looking at the will and hurr