Doctor Bryerly, standing near the window, was talking in a low tone to Mr. Grimston, our attorney. I heard good Dr. Clay whisper to Mr. Danvers-- 'Is not that Doctor Bryerly--the person with the black--the black--it's a wig, I think--in the window, talking to Abel Grimston?' 'Yes; that's he.' 'Odd-looking person--one of the Swedenborg people, is not he?' continued the Rector. 'So I am told.' 'Yes,' said the Rector, quietly; and he crossed one gaitered leg over the other, and, with fingers interlaced, twiddled his thumbs, as he eyed the monstrous sectary under his orthodox old brows with a stern inquisitiveness. I thought he was meditating theologic battle. But Dr. Bryerly and Mr. Grimston, still talking together, began to walk slowly from the window, and the former said in his peculiar grim tones-- 'I beg pardon, Miss Ruthyn; perhaps you would be so good as to show us which of the cabinets in this room your late lamented father pointed out as that to which this key belongs.' I indicated the oak cabinet. 'Very good, ma'am--very good,' said Doctor Bryerly, as he fumbled the key into the lock. Cousin Monica could not forbear murmuring-- 'Dear! what a brute!' The junior partner, with his dumpy hands in his pocket, poked his fat face over Mr. Grimston's shoulder, and peered into the cabinet as the door opened. The search was not long. A handsome white paper enclosure, neatly tied up in pink tape, and sealed with large red seals, was inscribed in my dear father's hand:--'Will of Austin R. Ruthyn, of Knowl.' Then, in smaller characters, the date, and in the corner a note--'This will was drawn from my instructions by Gaunt, Hogg, and Hatchett, Solicitors, Great Woburn Street, London, A.R.R.' 'Let _me_ have a squint at that indorsement, please, gentlemen,' half whispered the unpleasant person who represented my uncle Silas. ''_Tisn't_ an indorsement. There, look--a memorandum on an envelope,' said Abel Grimston, gruffly. 'Thanks--all right--that will do,' he responded, himself making a pencil-note of it, in a long clasp-book which he drew from his coat-pocket. The tape was carefully cut, and the envelope removed without tearing the writing, and forth came the will, at sight of which my heart swelled and fluttered up to my lips, and then dropped down dead as it seemed into its place. 'Mr. Grimston, you will please to read it,' said Doctor Bryerly, who took the direction of the process. 'I will sit beside you, and as we go along you will be good enough to help us to understand technicalities, and give us a lift where we want it.' 'It's a short will,' said Mr. Grimston, turning over the sheets '_very_--considering. Here's a codicil.' 'I did not see that,' said Doctor Bryerly. 'Dated only a month ago.' 'Oh!' said Doctor Bryerly, putting on his spectacles. Uncle Silas's ambassador, sitting close behind, had insinuated his face between Doctor Bryerly's and the reader's of the will.