There was nothing more to be said, certainly; still I had strange
misgivings even then, which I felt to be both unjust and ungenerous, yet
could not wholly banish, and again I examined the codicil.
Claude Bainrothe smiled; it was the first time, let me state _en
passant_, that we had found ourselves alone together since his return.
"You scrutinize that will as if you were a legal flaw-finder, Miss
Monfort, instead of a very confiding young lady of poetical
proclivities."
"It is very short!" I said, sententiously, comparing at the same time
the handwriting with that of Mr. Mainwaring, who had in his letter
declared himself the copyist, the original codicil remaining in his
hands, together with the will it had annulled, and finding them the same
unmistakably.
"Short, but sweet," he remarked curtly, yet smiling again, and extending
his hand for it. "I suppose one of Earl Pomfret's children had trodden
on the tail of the old maid's poodle--she lived with him it seems--and
offended her beyond repair, or something similar had occurred, to make
her change her intentions, which were at first all in his favor, and
revoke her first bequest."
"Mr. Mainwaring does not say so," I remarked, again glancing over his
letter. "He merely observes that it is only important to send a copy of
the codicil, since it revokes all previous bequests.
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