There was a second pause of silence.

The humming of flies among the evergreen shrubs under the window penetrated drowsily into the room; and the tramp of a heavy-footed cart-horse, plodding along the high-road beyond the garden, was as plainly audible in the stillness as if it had been night.
The lawyer roused his flagging resolution, and spoke to the purpose when he spoke next.
"You have some reason, Miss Garth," he began, "to feel not quite satisfied with my past conduct toward you, in one particular.

During Mrs.Vanstone's fatal illness, you addressed a letter to me, making certain inquiries; which, while she lived, it was impossible for me to answer.

Her deplorable death releases me from the restraint which I had imposed on myself, and permits--or, more properly, obliges me to speak.
You shall know what serious reasons I had for waiting day and night in the hope of obtaining that interview which unhappily never took place; and in justice to Mr.Vanstone's memory, your own eyes shall inform you that he made his will." He rose; unlocked a little iron safe in the corner of the room; and returned to the table with some folded sheets of paper, which he spread open under Miss Garth's eyes.

When she had read the first words, "In the name of God, Amen," he turned the sheet, and pointed to the end of the next page.