"Humph!" Carrington threw down his pencil and leaned back with a doubtful look. "I think the vicar's wits must be wool-gathering. He has no enmity against you, I suppose?"
"Enmity?" Hendle stopped in his walk and stared.
"I mean he is your friend."
"Oh, yes. Leigh and I are great friends."
"And his attitude toward Mallien?"
"He doesn't like him overmuch. Mallien is so rude to him."
"And to everyone," finished Carrington with a shrug. "A most disagreeable person. Well, as Leigh likes you and doesn't like your cousin, I take it he could not have invented this story to do you out of the property in Mallien's favor."
"No. Leigh is the best of good fellows, though rather eccentric. He must have found the will; it is impossible that he could have suggested its existence otherwise."
"I suppose not," murmured Carrington vaguely; then glanced shrewdly at his client. "Does he know your family history?"
"Everyone in Barship knows that," replied Hendle, dropping again into his chair with a sigh. "There is nothing to know really, as we have always been a dull, homely lot of people."