Mr. Barkley was shocked. "The law, Lavendar, is the deepest expression of the human sense of justice!" "But, Ezra," Dr. Lavendar said, suddenly attentive, "that is very interesting. I remember you referred to the lapsing of the power of attorney when you made out that paper for me; but I didn't quite understand. Do you mean that carrying out, now, directions given before the death of my old friend would be against the law? Suppose he had asked me--last week, perhaps, to destroy--well, say that old account-book there on the table, couldn't I do it to-day?" "Dr. Lavendar, you do not, I fear, apprehend the majesty of the law! Why," said Mr. Ezra, standing up, very straight and solemn, "such a deed--" "But suppose I didn't want--suppose Johnny didn't want, for reasons of his own, to have anybody--say, even his executor--see that account-book; suppose it might be put to some bad purpose--used to injure some third person (of course that is an absurd supposition, but it will do for an illustration); if he had asked me last week to destroy it, do you mean to say, Ezra, I couldn't destroy it to-day?--just because he happened to die this morning!" "My dear sir," said Mr. Ezra, "such conduct on your part would be perilously near a criminal offence." Dr. Lavendar whistled. "Well, Ezra, I won't destroy it." "I hope not, sir--I hope not, indeed," cried Mr. Ezra. Dr. Lavendar laughed; he had the impulse to turn round and wink at Johnny, to take him into the joke. But it was only for an instant, and his face fell quickly into puzzled lines. "A moment's reflection," Mr. Ezra continued, "will convince you, Dr. Lavendar, that the aforesaid account-book is now the property, not of the deceased, but of the estate. Its destruction would be the destruction of property belonging to the heirs. Furthermore, your belief that the herein before mentioned account-book might be put to an improper use, for the injury of a third person--such belief would no more justify you in destroying it than would your belief in its unfairness towards said third person justify you in destroying a will." Dr. Lavendar thrust out his lower lip and stared at him, frowning. "Yes," he said, slowly--"yes; I see. I did not quite understand. But I see." Mr. Ezra solemnly began to pour forth a stream of statistics; he referred to the case of Buckley vs. Grant, and even mentioned chapter and page of _Purdon's Digest_ where Dr. Lavendar could find further enlightenment. Dr. Lavendar may have listened, but he made no comment; he sat staring silently at the old purple handkerchief on the top of John's chair. When Mr. Ezra had finished his work and his statistics, the two men shook hands; then Dr. Lavendar said good-bye to Rachel and climbed into his buggy, buttoning the apron high up in front of him; the lawyer mounted his horse, and they plodded off into the snow, single file. But Dr. Lavendar's eyes, under his old fur cap, had lost their squirrel-like brightness....