did not think it necessary to explain that they were staying
at good old Mrs. Jones's, on the other side of the Green.

"I should have been down for the funeral," said Mr. Stickatit; "but
I have been kept going about the property, ever since the death, up
to this moment, I may say. There's the document, gentlemen." And the
will was laid on the table. "The personalty will be sworn under five.
The real will be about two more. Well, Pritchett, and how are you
this morning?"

Sir Henry said but little to anybody. Bertram put out his hand to him
as he entered, and he just took it, muttering something; and then,
having done so, he sat himself down at the table. His face was not
pleasant to be seen; his manner was ungracious, nay, more than that,
uncourteous--almost brutal; and it seemed as though he were prepared
to declare himself the enemy of all who were there assembled. To
Sir Lionel he was known, and it may be presumed that some words had
passed between them in the fly; but there in the room he said no word
to any one, but sat leaning back in an arm-chair, with his hands in
his pockets, scowling at the table before him.

"A beautiful day, is it not, Mr. Pritchett?" said Sir Lionel,
essaying to make things pleasant, after his fashion.

"A beautiful day--outwardly, Sir Lionel," sighed Mr. Pritchett. "But
the occasion is not comfortable. We must all die, though; all of us,
Mr. George."

"But we shall not all of us leave such a will as that behind us,"
said Mr. Stickatit. "Come, gentlemen, are we ready? Shall we sit
down?"

George got a chair for his father, and put it down opposite to that
of Sir Henry's. Mr. Pritchett humbly kept himself in one corner. The
lawyer took the head of the table, and broke open the envelope which
contained the will with a degree of gusto which showed that the
occupation was not disagreeable to him. "Mr. Bertram," said he, "will
you not take a chair?"

"Thank you, no; I'll stand here, if you please," said George. And so
he kept his position with his back to the empty fireplace.

All of them, then, were somewhat afraid of having their
disappointment read in their faces, and commented upon by the others.
They were all of them schooling themselves to bear with an appearance
of indifference the tidings which they dreaded to hear. All of them,
that is, except the attorney. He hoped nothing, and feared nothing.

Mr. Pritchett nearly closed his eyes, and almost opened his mouth,
and sat wit