He was on the point of ringing the bell, and sending the servant with a message to the lawyer’s room, when Mr. Perrins came in. With many apologies for being late, he sat down to table; but Lionel saw at once that he was bursting with some important news. As soon as the first course was served, and the servant had left the room, Perrins began.
“I have some very startling information for you, Mr. Dering,” he said. “My late arrival at table is owing to a certain discovery which I made about an hour ago.”
“I hope you are not going to tell me that my eleven thousand a year is all moonshine,” said Lionel, as he helped the lawyer to some clear soup.
“No, no, Mr. Dering. The news I have to tell you is not quite so bad as that, and yet it is bad enough in all conscience. While going through some of your uncle’s papers this afternoon—you know what a quantity of them there are, and in what disorder he kept them—while engaged upon this necessary duty, I discovered—what think you, sir? what think you?”
“Another will, I suppose,” said Lionel, slowly.
“Not another will, but a codicil, sir; codicil to the will with whose provisions we are already acquainted; in the handwriting of the testator himself, witnessed in due form, and dated only three months ago!”
“And what may be the contents of this important document?” asked Lionel, as he crumbled his bread with apparent indifference.
“The contents are these: Should you, Lionel Dering, die unmarried, or without lawful issue, the whole of the property bequeathed you by your uncle’s will reverts to your cousin, Mr. Kester St. George, or to his children, should you be the longer liver of the two.”
“Is that all?” said Lionel, with a sigh of relief.
“All, sir! Quite enough, too, I should say, if I were in your place.”