ean to vex you. Somehow, Lionel, it is for your sake that I
seem to have taken a dislike to the Wests----"

"To take a dislike to people is no just cause for accusing them of
crime," he interrupted. "Decima, you are not like yourself to-day."

"Do you suppose that it is my dislike which caused me to suspect him.
No, Lionel. I seem to see people and their motives very clearly; and I
do honestly believe"--she dropped her voice still lower--"that Dr. West
is a man capable of almost anything. At the time when the codicil was
being searched for, I used to think and think it over, how it could
be--how it could have disappeared. All its points, all its bearings, I
deliberated upon again and again. One certain thing was, the codicil
could not have disappeared from the desk without its having been taken
out. Another point, almost equally certain to my mind, was that my Uncle
Stephen did not take it out, but died in the belief that it was _in_,
and that it would give you your inheritance. A third point was, that
whoever took it must have had some strong motive for the act. Who (with
possible access to the desk) could have had this motive, even in a
remote degree? There were but two--Dr. West and Mrs. Verner. Mrs. Verner
I judge to be incapable of anything so wrong; Dr. West I believe to be
capable of even worse than that. Hence I drew my deductions."

"Deductions which I shall never accept, and which I would advise you to
get rid of, Decima," was his answer. "My dear, never let such an
accusation cross your lips again."

"I never shall. I have told you; and that is enough. I have longed to
tell you for some time past. I did not think you would believe me."

"Believe _it_, you should say, Decima. Dr. West take the codicil! Were
I to bring myself to that belief, I think all my faith in man would go
out. You are sadly prejudiced against the Wests."

"And you in their favour," she could not help saying. "But I shall ever
be thankful for one thing--that you have escaped Sibylla."

Was he thankful for it? Scarcely, while that pained heart of his, those
coursing pulses, could beat on in this tumultuous manner at the bare
sound of her name.

In the silence that ensued--for neither felt inclined to break it--they
heard a voice in the hall below, inquiring whether Mr. Verner was
within. Lionel recognised it as Tynn's.

"For all I know he is," answered old Catherine. "I saw him a few minutes
agone in the court out there, a-talking