The ladies saw his admiration, and felt that it was but natural. Mrs. Carnaby came forward kindly, and offered him a nice warm hand; while the elder sister was content to bow, and thank him for coming, and hope that he was well. As yet it had not become proper for a gentleman, visiting ladies, to yawn, and throw himself into the nearest chair, and cross his legs, and dance one foot, and ask how much the toy-terrier cost. Mr. Jellicorse made a fine series of bows, not without a scrape or two, which showed his goodly calf; and after that he waited for the gracious invitation to sit down.
“If I understood your letter clearly,” Mistress Yordas began, when these little rites were duly accomplished, “you have something important to tell us concerning our poor property here. A small property, Mr. Jellicorse, compared with that of the Duke of Lunedale, but perhaps a little longer in one family.”
“The duke is a new-fangled interloper,” replied hypocritical Jellicorse, though no other duke was the husband of the duchess of whom he indited daily; “properties of that sort come and go, and only tradesmen notice it. Your estates have been longer in the seisin of one family, madam, than any other in the Riding, or perhaps in Yorkshire.”
“We never seized them!” cried Mrs. Carnaby, being sensitive as to ancestral thefts, through tales about cattle-lifting. “You must be aware that they came to us by grant from the Crown, or even before there was any Crown to grant them.”
“I beg your pardon for using a technical word, without explaining it. Seisin is a legal word, which simply means possession, or rather the bodily holding of a thing, and is used especially of corporeal hereditaments. You ladies have seisin of this house and lands, although you never seized them.”
“The last thing we would think of doing,” answered Mrs. Carnaby, who was more impulsive than her sister, also less straightforward. “How often we have wished that our poor lost brother had not been deprived of them! But our father's will was sacred, and you told us we were helpless. We struggled, as you know; but we could do nothing.”
“That is the question which brought me here,” the lawyer said, very quietly, at the same time producing a small roll of parchment sealed in cartridge paper. “Last week I discovered a document which I am forced to submit to your judgment. Shall I read it to you, or tell its purport briefly?”
“Whatever it may be, it can not in any way alter our conclusions. Our conclusions have never varied, however deeply they may have grieved us. We were bound to do justice to our dear father.”
“Certainly, madam; and you did it. Also, as I know, you did it as kindly as possible toward other relatives, and you only met with perversity. I had the honor of preparing your respected father's will, a model of clearness and precision, considering—considering the time afforded, and other disturbing influences. I know for a fact that a copy was laid before the finest draftsman in London, by—by those who were displeased with it, and his words were: 'Beautiful! beautiful! Every word of it holds water.' Now that, madam, can not be said of many; indeed, of not one in—”
“Pardon me for interrupting you, but I have always understood you to speak highly of it. And in such a case, what can be the matter?”