"You have it at home, then. I should like to see it, for I did not know of its existence before that day, and it might contain mis-statements which, for the children's sakes, should not be allowed to remain uncontradicted or unexplained. If I might ask you to let me read it—"
"It is impossible, sir; I cannot show it to you. Nay, do not misunderstand me," added Felix quickly, as he saw an expression of disappointment in the old man's face; "no one has any claim upon you, neither I nor any one connected with me. It is wiped off."
"Shame can never be obliterated," said Old Wheels, in a tone of mingled pride and sternness. "Have you the paper?"
"No, sir."
"Who has?"
"No one. It is burnt, and there is no record of the circumstance you have referred to."
"Burnt!" exclaimed Old Wheels, with a dim glimmering of the truth. "Who burnt it?"
"My uncle left a request that all his papers and documents should be burnt, unreservedly. My father, acting for me before I returned home, complied with the request, and burnt everything with the exception of this single document. It is with shame I repeat that he retained this because he thought it was worth money to me."
"So it was."
"My uncle's wish was sacred to me, and when you left my father's room, I burnt this paper, as all the others had been; it was my simple duty."