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It was private from the outer world, save for the
iron gates, and here Decima and Lucy Tempest were fond of lingering on a
fine day. On this afternoon of Mary Tynn's discovery, they were there
with Lionel. Decima went indoors for some string to tie up a fuchsia
plant, just as Tynn appeared at the iron gates. She stopped on seeing
Lionel.
"I was going round to the other entrance, sir, to ask to speak to you,"
she said. "Something very strange has happened."
"Come in," answered Lionel. "Will you speak here, or go indoors? What is
it?"
Too excitedly eager to wait to go indoors, or to care for the presence
of Lucy Tempest, Mrs. Tynn told her tale, and handed the paper to
Lionel. "It's the missing codicil, as sure as that we are here, sir."
He saw the official-looking nature of the document, its great seal, and
the superscription in his uncle's handwriting. Lionel did not doubt that
it was the codicil, and a streak of scarlet emotion arose to his pale
cheek.
"You don't open it, sir!" said the woman, as feverishly impatient as if
the good fortune were her own.


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