for the room had another door, which opened to his wife's chamber,
and the access on that side was free and open.

Early on the following morning, George Bertram went up to town,
and was driven directly from the station to his dull, dingy, dirty
chambers in the Temple. His chambers were not as those of practising
lawyers. He kept no desk there, and no servant peculiar to himself.
It had suited him to have some resting-place for his foot, that he
could call his home; and when he was there, he was waited upon by the
old woman who called herself the laundress--probably from the fact of
her never washing herself or anything else.

When he reached this sweet home on the morning in question, he was
told by the old woman that a very express messenger had been there
that morning, and that, failing to find him, the express messenger
had gone down to Hadley. They had, therefore, passed each other upon
the road. The express messenger had left no message, but the woman
had learned that he had come from Eaton Square.

"And he left no letter?"

"No, sir; no letter. He had no letter; but he was very eager about
it. It was something of importance sure--ly."

It might have been natural that, under such circumstances, George
should go off to Eaton Square; but it struck him as very probable
that Sir Henry might desire to have some communication with him, but
that he, when he should know what that communication was, would in no
degree reciprocate that desire. The less that he had to say to Sir
Henry Harcourt at present, perhaps, the better. So he made up his
mind that he would not go to Eaton Square.

After he had been in his rooms for about half an hour, he was
preparing to leave them, and had risen with that object, when he
heard a knock at his door, and quickly following the knock, the young
attorney who had read the will was in his room.

"You have heard the news, Mr. Bertram?" said he.

"No, indeed! What news? I have just come up."

"Sir Henry Harcourt has destroyed himself. He shot himself in his own
house yesterday, late at night, after the servants had gone to bed!"

George Bertram fell back, speechless, on to the sofa behind him, and
stared almost unconsciously at the lawyer.

"It is too true, sir. That will of Mr. Bertram's was too much for
him. His reason must have failed him, and now he is no more." And
so was made clear what were the tidings with which that express
messenger had been laden.

There was little or