avenue, and his eye ranged from left to right over the ample estate with
a glance of self-complacent triumph.

"All mine at last!" he said to himself, exultingly. "What I have been
working for has come to pass. Three years ago I was well-nigh penniless,
and now I am a rich man. I shall leave Mark the master of a great
fortune. I have played my cards well. No one will suspect anything
wrong. My wife and I have lived in harmony. There will be little wonder
that she has left all to me. There would be, perhaps, but for the manner
in which I have taken care he shall be mentioned in the will--I mean, of
course, in the will I have made for her."

He paused, and, touching a spring in the wall, a small door flew open,
revealing a shallow recess.

In this recess was a folded paper, tied with a red ribbon.

Mr. Manning opened it, and his eyes glanced rapidly down the page.

"This is the true will," he said to himself. "I wish I could summon
courage to burn it. It would be best out of the way. That, if found
out, would make me amenable to the law, and I must run no risk. In this
secret recess it will never be found. I will replace it, and the
document which I have had prepared will take its place, and no one will
be the wiser."

On the day after the funeral, the family solicitor and a few intimate
friends, who had been invited by Mr. Manning, assembled in the drawing
room of the mansion to hear the will read.