hing his niece good-night, and a passing remark
to Mrs. Fraudhurst, Sir Jasper entered his study, closing the door
quietly behind him.

For a considerable time he paced the room, with his hands crossed behind
his back, as was his custom when in a meditative mood. Finally, seating
himself at his escritoire, he placed the massive silver candlesticks,
with their wax lights, in such a position that the glow would not effect
his sight, and arranged his materials for writing to suit him. For a few
moments he leaned back in his chair, then selecting a small key from a
bunch he always carried, unlocked the centre drawer which contained only
a few memorandums and drew it completely out. He next touched a small
spring at the side, when a panel of the back slid open, disclosing an
aperture from which he took the packet he had brought from London the
evening previous to the opening of our story. This was the will and
testament of Sir Jasper Coleman, in which he had left his niece, Edith
Effingham, sole heiress of all he possessed, with the exception of a
gratuity of five thousand pounds to be paid to his _protege_, Arthur
Carlton, within six months after his (the Baronet's) decease, and to be
free from all legacy or other duties. Having re-read the document, he
laid it on the table beside him and then commenced writing.

Sir Jasper had thus acted without the knowledge of his lawyer, the man
with whom he had consulted on every other matter since his succession to
the Baronetcy, consequently that gentleman was in ignorance of any such
will being in existence. It had been drawn by a competent lawyer
residing in one of the suburbs of London, and had been properly
witnessed, and was, in every particular, a regular, complete document.
The parties present on the occasion knew nothing of Sir Jasper, had
never heard of Vellenaux or its owner, and in all probability would
never hear of him again, as there was no likelihood of the will being
contested. Why he had acted in this manner is hard to say.

The Baronet had finished his letter, and was again musing, and muttering
to himself, "Ralph Coleman, you are an unprincipled man. Do you think
your attempt to coerce my darling niece to listen to your suit has
escaped me. You have failed in that quarter and now come to me to assist
you. Well, well as she is safe I can afford to forgive you, and let you
have a couple of thousand a year, to enable you to support yourself like
a gentleman when the