"That is very nice and delicate of him, and I will explain the position
to my father. If he is willing for Doctor Thorndyke to see the copy, I
will send or bring it over this evening. Have we finished?"

I regretfully admitted that we had, and, when I had paid the modest
reckoning, we sallied forth, turning back with one accord into Great
Russell Street to avoid the noise and bustle of the larger thoroughfare.

"What sort of man was your uncle?" I asked presently, as we walked along
the quiet, dignified street. And then I added hastily: "I hope you don't
think me inquisitive, but, to my mind, he presents himself as a kind of
mysterious abstraction; the unknown quantity of a legal problem."

"My Uncle John," she answered reflectively, "was a very peculiar man,
rather obstinate, very self-willed, what people call 'masterful,' and
decidedly wrong-headed and unreasonable."

"That is certainly the impression that the terms of his will convey," I
said.

"Yes; and not the will only. There was the absurd allowance that he made
my father. That was a ridiculous arrangement, and very unfair, too. He
ought to have divided up the property as my grandfather intended. And
yet he was by no means ungenerous, only he would have his own way, and
his own way was very commonly the wrong way.

"I remember," she continued, after a short pause, "a very odd instance
of his wrong-headedness and obstinacy. It was a small matter, but very
typical of him. He had in his collection a beautiful little ring of the