lawyer, and he is certainly a very discreet, cautious man."

"Is he? I shouldn't have thought so, judging by your uncle's will."

"Oh, but that was not Mr. Jellicoe's fault. He assures us that he
entreated my uncle to let him draw up a fresh document with more
reasonable provisions. But he says Uncle John was immovable; and he
really _was_ a rather obstinate man. Mr. Jellicoe repudiates any
responsibility in the matter. He washes his hands of the whole affair,
and says that it is the will of a lunatic. And so it is. I was glancing
through it only a night or two ago, and really I cannot conceive how a
sane man could have written such nonsense."

"You have a copy, then?" I asked eagerly, remembering Thorndyke's
parting instructions.

"Yes. Would you like to see it? I know my father has told you about it,
and it is worth reading as a curiosity of perverseness."

"I should very much like to show it to my friend, Doctor Thorndyke," I
replied. "He said that he would be interested to read it and learn the
exact provisions; and it might be well to let him, and hear what he has
to say about it."

"I see no objection," she rejoined; "but you know what my father is:
his horror, I mean, of what he calls 'cadging for advice gratis.'"

"Oh, but he need have no scruples on that score. Doctor Thorndyke wants
to see the will because the case interests him. He is an enthusiast, you
know, and he put the request as a personal favour to himself."