"It is no visual deception," said the sharp voice of Mr. Quirky, as he came to the aid of his bewildered legal brother; "for this envelope once contained the last will and testament of our deceased friend—a document to which I was a witness, and it must have been abstracted or destroyed."
"S'death! who in this house would be guilty of such an act?" demanded Colonel Rose, reddening with anger, and drawing up his soldier-like figure to its full height.
"She has destroyed the will," whined Macfarisee, who was now ashy pale with rage and disappointed avarice, and trembled in every limb.
"She—who—mean you my sister-in-law?"
"No, colonel; she was all saintly purity, and covered by it as by a shining garment."
"I will thank you, sir, to come to a halt with this miserable cant," said Colonel Rose contemptuously; "say who then?"
"Miss Amy Lee."
"Amy Lee?—Impossible; fellow, you rave!"
"Into her custody I gave it; she whom her good aunt reared in the paths of rectitude, deeming her a lamb rescued from the slaughter, a brand snatched from the burning; but Satan is in her heart,—she has destroyed the will, and ruined her own soul!"
Overwhelmed by this strange and sudden accusation, poor Amy's first outburst of pride and ladylike indignation gave way to softness and a torrent of tears; while the defeated Macfarisee trod hastily to and fro, muttering with his thin lips,—