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Updated: May 17, 2025
So the housekeeper remained present while the deed was executed. Mr. Verner signed it, proclaiming it his last will and testament, and Dr. West and Tynn affixed their signatures. The lawyer and Mrs. Tynn stood looking on. Mr. Verner folded it up with his own hands, and sealed it. "Bring me my desk," he said, looking at Mrs. Tynn.
Tynn excused the negligence by saying she did not think her master had been quite so near his end; and it was a true excuse. But no one dreamed of attaching suspicion to Mrs. Verner, or to Dr. West. "I'd rather it had been Lionel to succeed than Frederick," spoke the former, honestly, some faint idea that people might think she was pleased suggesting the avowal to her.
"Then there is no codicil!" cried he. "I thought I could wile it out of him! That Tynn's as easy to be run out as is glass when it's hot." And, putting his best leg forward, he made his way as fast as he could make it towards his home. Tynn made his way towards Verner's Pride. But not fast. The information he had received filled his mind with the saddest trouble, and reduced his steps to slowness.
Tynn was in a glow of delight also. There was no mistress, and she ruled the household, including Tynn. The dinner gone away and the wine on the table, Lionel drew his chair in front of the fire, and fell into a train of thought, leaving the wine untouched. Full half an hour had he thus sat, when the entrance of Tynn aroused him. He poured out a glass, and raised it to his lips.
Among the presentations were Mr. and Mrs. Tynn, member and member's mainspring for North Wessex; Sir Cyril and Lady Blandsbury; Lady Jane Joy; and the Honourable Edgar Mountclere, the viscount's brother. There also hovered near her the learned Doctor Yore; Mr. Small, a profound writer, who never printed his works; the Reverend Mr. Brook, rector; the Very Reverend Dr.
And now I want something else." "What's that?" asked Lionel. "A cheque." "A cheque? I gave you one this morning, Sibylla." "Oh! but the one you gave me is for housekeeping for Mary Tynn, and all that. I want one for myself. I am not going to have my expenses come out of the housekeeping." Lionel sat down to write one, a good-natured smile on his face.
It appeared to consist of turning a room and its contents topsy-turvy, and then putting them straight again. The chamber this time subjected to the ordeal was that of her late master, Mr. Verner. His drawers, closets, and other places consecrated to clothes, had not been meddled with since his death. Mrs. Therefore Tynn left them alone for that purpose. Mrs.
"Ought I to remain here now?" "You cannot well do anything else, as it is so late," he answered. "Allow Verner's Pride to afford you an asylum for the present, until you can make arrangements to remove to some temporary home. Mrs. Tynn will make you comfortable. I shall be, during the time, my mother's guest." "What is the time now?" asked Sibylla. "Nearly ten; and I dare say you are tired.
First it's one complaint that's brought to the house, of things going wrong, and then it's another complaint and the women servants, they have not the sense to keep it from her. My wife can't keep her tongue still upon it, and can't see that the rest do. Might I ask how her ladyship is to-day, sir?" "Not any better, Tynn. Tell Mrs. Verner I will be with her almost immediately."
Not a small letter if it was a letter but one of very large size, thick, looking not unlike a government despatch. It was sealed with Mr. Verner's own seal, and addressed in his own handwriting "For my nephew, Lionel Verner. To be opened after my death." Mrs. Tynn entertained not the slightest doubt that she had come upon the lost codicil.
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