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Updated: May 17, 2025
Tynn and his satellites bustled about, and believed they had never had such a day of work before. A day of pleasure also, unexampled in their lives; for their master, Lionel Verner, was about to bring home his bride. Everybody was flocking to the spot; old and young, gentle and simple.
The night passed quietly at Verner's Pride. Not, for all its inmates, pleasantly. Faithful Tynn bolted and barred the doors and windows with his own hand, as he might have done on the anticipated invasion of a burglar. He then took up his station to watch the approaches to the house, and never stirred until morning light.
"I saw him a few minutes agone in the court out there, a-talking to the doctor." "Will you please ask if I can speak to him." Lionel did not wait further, but descended to the hall. The butler, in his deep mourning, had taken his seat on the bench. He rose as Lionel approached. "Well, Tynn, how are you? What is it?"
Social obligations were forgotten in the overwhelming excitement, and Mr. and Mrs. Verner were left to keep house for themselves. Tynn, indeed, recollected himself, and turned back. "No," said Mr. Verner. "Go with the rest, Tynn, and see what it is, and whether anything can be done." He might have crept thither himself in his feeble strength, but he had not stirred out of the house for two years.
In a gap of the hedge behind them, Lionel had caught sight of a human face, its stealthy ears complacently taking in every word. It was that of Roy the bailiff. Mrs. Tynn, the housekeeper at Verner's Pride, was holding one of those periodical visitations that she was pleased to call, when in familiar colloquy with her female assistants, a "rout out."
Verner's Pride is gone from us." "But, Lionel, whom do you suspect? Who can have taken it? It is pretty nearly a hanging matter to steal a will!" "I do not suspect any one," he emphatically answered. "Mrs. Tynn protests that no one could have approached the desk unseen by her. It is very unlikely that any one could have burnt it.
Roy had come up, hoping that he might so attend them on this night. Tynn did appear, with Miss West, and Roy began to hug himself that fortune had so far favoured him; but when he saw that Tynn departed with the lady, instead of only standing politely to watch her off, Roy growled out vengeance against the unconscious offenders.
That Mr. Massingbird's back from Australia, I'll take my oath to. I didn't believe it at first; and when young Duff was a-going on about the porkypine, I shook him, I did, for a little lying rascal. I know better now." "But how do you know it?" debated Tynn. "Now, never you mind. It's my business, I say, and nobody else's. You just wait a day or two, that's all, Mr. Tynn.
Tynn might well heave her hands and eyes in dismay. On the chairs, on the tables, on the drawers, on the floor, on every conceivable place and space they lay; a goodly mass of vanity, just unpacked from their cases. Flitting about amidst them was a damsel of coquettish appearance, with a fair skin, light hair, and her nose a turn-up.
And Tynn, though not much inclined to give credence to ghosts in a general way, had felt somewhat uneasy at the ale. More on his mistress's account than on any other score; for Tynn had the sense to know that such a report could not be pleasing to Mrs. Verner, should it reach her ears. "I can't think why they do say it," replied Tynn, answering the man's concluding question.
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