"About this will," said Miss Bull, laying one thin finger on the document. "Madame leaves to Margery Watson, her niece, the money in the green box in her sitting-room, and also the jewels, which I presume mean the diamonds." "Yes. Also, if you will recollect, the clothes of the deceased lady. "Is there nothing else?" asked Miss Bull, raising her black eyes inquiringly. "What of the lease of this house?" "That is the property of Lord Derrington, and he only let the house to Mrs. Jersey by the year." "Is not that rather strange?" "Very strange. But the whole connection of Lord Derrington with my late client is strange. I know that she received from him an annuity of five hundred a year and the lease of this house--by the year, remember--from December to December. Now she is dead the annuity lapses, and the lease naturally will not be renewed after next month." "It is now the end of November," said Miss Bull, quite composed. "I understand you to say that the lease expires when December----" "It ends on the 31st of December," explained James, "and as Mrs. Jersey is dead it will not be renewed. Lord Derrington, so far as I know, has no interest in Miss Margery Watson." "What interest had he in Mrs. Jersey?" asked Miss Bull, scenting a scandal, and her eyes brightening. "I can't tell you that, and if I could I would not." "Quite right. I beg your pardon for asking, but you see in the interests of that poor girl I wish to know exactly how matters stand." "They stand as I tell you," said James, and rose to go. "I have nothing more to do in the matter and my connection with the late Mrs. Jersey ceases here." "One moment," said Miss Bull, quietly. "What of the furniture?" "That is also the property of Lord Derrington. He bought the house as it stood from the executor of the last owner, Mr. Anthony Lockwood, fifteen years ago. Mrs. Jersey wished to set up a boarding-house, so Lord Derrington placed her in here. Every stick in the place belongs to him. Should Miss Watson leave she goes with the jewels, the money in the green box, and with her deceased aunt's clothes." "A very poor outfit to start life on at her age," said Miss Bull, rising in her prim manner. "By the way, Mr. James, what is the name of the late Mr. Lockwood's executor?" "Roger Ireland," replied the lawyer, looking rather surprised. "Why do you ask?" "For my own satisfaction, Mr. James. If no one else will assist this poor girl I shall do so. Good-day." James departed with a better opinion of Miss Bull, although at any time he had no reason to have a bad one. But her manner inspired mistrust, and, kindly as she appeared to be acting towards Margery, he could not help thinking that there was more in her action than mere philanthropy. "You're a deep one," thought James. "I shouldn't wonder if we heard more of you."