Mr.
Bitterworth had bent his head in a reverie, stealing a glance at Lionel now and then.
"Is there nothing that you can charge your conscience with; no sin, which may have come to the knowledge of your uncle, and been deemed by him a just cause for disinheritance ?" questioned Mr.Bitterworth, in a meaning tone.
"There is nothing, so help me Heaven!" replied Lionel, with emotion.

"No sin, no shame; nothing that could be a cause, or the shade of a cause--I will not say for depriving me of Verner's Pride, but even for my uncle's displeasure." "It struck me--you will not be offended with me, Lionel, if I mention something that struck me a week back," resumed Mr.Bitterworth.

"I am a foolish old man, given to ponder much over cause and effect--to put two and two together, as we call it; and the day I first heard from your uncle that he had had good cause--it was what he said--for depriving you of Verner's Pride, I went home, and set myself to think.

The will had been made just after John Massingbird's departure for Australia.

I brought before me all the events which had occurred about that same time, and there rose up naturally, towering above every other reminiscence, the unhappy business touching Rachel Frost.
Lionel"-- laying his hand on the young man's shoulder and dropping his voice to a whisper--"did _you_ lead the girl astray ?" Lionel drew himself up to his full height, his lip curling with displeasure.
"Mr.Bitterworth!" "To suspect you never would have occurred to me.