When he had lost it, or where he had lost it, he knew no more than did the table he was standing by.

He had worn dozens of these gloves in the years gone by, up to the period when he had gone in mourning for John Massingbird, and, subsequently, for his uncle.
"What is it, Lionel ?" Lionel put the lines in his pocket, and pushed the glove toward Mrs.
Verner.

"I do not understand it in the least," he said.

"My uncle appears to have found the glove somewhere, and he writes to say that he returns it to me.

The chief matter that concerns us is"-- turning his eyes on the servants--"that it is not the codicil!" Mrs.Tynn lifted her hands.