"Sir Bernard?" questioned the supposed heir, raising his eyebrows.
"Certainly. On the death of Sir Simon, Bernard took the title!"
"He hasn't enjoyed it long," said Beryl, with so villainous a sneer that the lawyer longed to pitch him out of the carriage, "and seeing he is dead I suppose the title becomes extinct."
"It does," assented Durham gravely. "Bernard was the only heir in the direct line."
Julius shrugged his shoulders. "Well, I'll be quite content with the money," said he.
"Here we are," said Durham, as the carriage stopped. "By the way, Miss Plantagenet and Miss Malleson have come to hear the will read. I hope you don't object."
"Yes, I do," retorted Beryl, angrily, as he alighted. "They would have shown better taste had they remained away."
"But remember Miss Malleson has lost Bernard."
"All the better for her. She would have had a miserable life with that fellow."
Durham suppressed a violent inclination to punch the man's head, but, knowing what punishment awaited him, he walked up the steps with a contemptuous smile. Here was a change indeed from the meek Julius of the old days. This presumed heir was obnoxious and insolent, thinking he was absolutely certain of entering into his kingdom. The lawyer was by no means a vindictive person, but it afforded him a certain amount of satisfaction when he thought of the irony of the situation.