r safe keeping,
in our office," he began. "Father Benwell called upon us, and presented
an order, signed by yourself, authorizing him to convey the will from
London to Paris. The object was to obtain your signature to a codicil,
which had been considered a necessary addition to secure the validity of
the will.--Are you favoring me with your attention, sir?"

Romayne answered by a slight bending of his head. His eyes were fixed
on the boy--still absorbed in throwing his sticks, one by one, into the
fire.

"At the time when your will was executed," the lawyer went on, "Father
Benwell obtained your permission to take a copy of it. Hearing of your
illness, he submitted the copy to a high legal authority. The written
opinion of this competent person declares the clause, bequeathing the
Vange estate to Father Benwell, to be so imperfectly expressed, that the
will might be made a subject of litigation after the testator's death.
He has accordingly appended a form of codicil amending the defect, and
we have added it to the will. I thought it my duty, as one of your legal
advisers, to accompany Father Benwell on his return to Paris in charge
of the will--in case you might feel disposed to make any alteration."
He looked toward Stella and the child as he completed that sentence.
The Jesuit's keen eyes took the same direction. "Shall I read the will,
sir?" the lawyer resumed; "or would you prefer to look at it yourself?"

Romayne held out his hand for the will, in silence. He was still
watching his son. There were but few more sticks now left to be thrown
in the fire.

Father Benwell interfered, for the first time.

"One word, Mr. Romayne, before you examine that document," he said. "The
Church receives back from you (through me) the property which was once
its own. Beyond that it authorizes and even desires you to make any
changes which you or your trusted legal adviser may think right. I
refer to the clauses of the will which relate to the property you have
inherited from the late Lady Berrick--and I beg the persons present to
bear in memory the few plain words that I have now spoken."

He bowed with dignity and drew back. Even the lawyer was favorably
impressed. The doctors looked at each other with silent approval. For
the first time, the sad repose of Stella's face was disturbed--I could
see that it cost her an effort to repress her indignation. The one
unmoved person was Romayne. The sheet of paper on which the will wa