clined we are (if we only studied our own
feelings) to throw it back into the dust-heap, in mercy to the memory of
the unhappy writer. I shall keep this open for a day or two. If there
is more news to tell you by that time you will hear of it from Mr.
Playmore."

Mr. Playmore's postscript followed, dated three days later.

"The concluding part of the late Mrs. Macallan's letter to her husband,"
the lawyer wrote, "has proved accidentally to be the first part which
we have succeeded in piecing together. With the exception of a few gaps
still left, here and there, the writing of the closing paragraphs
has been perfectly reconstructed. I have neither the time nor the
inclination to write to you on this sad subject in any detail. In a
fortnight more, at the longest, we shall, I hope, send you a copy of the
letter, complete from the first line to the last. Meanwhile, it is
my duty to tell you that there is one bright side to this otherwise
deplorable and shocking document. Legally speaking, as well as morally
speaking, it absolutely vindicates your husband's innocence. And it
may be lawfully used for this purpose--if he can reconcile it to his
conscience, and to the mercy due to the memory of the dead, to permit
the public exposure of the letter in Court. Understand me, he cannot be
tried again on what we call the criminal charge--for certain technical
reasons with which I need not trouble you. But, if the facts which were
involved at the criminal trial can also be shown to be involved in a
civil action (and in this case they can), the entire matter may be made
the subject of a new legal inquiry; and the verdict of a second jury,
completely vindicating your husband, may thus be obtained. Keep this
information to yourself for the present. Preserve the position which you
have so sensibly adopted toward Eustace until you have read the restored
letter. When you have done this, my own idea is that you will shrink,
in pity to _him,_ from letting him see it. How he is to be kept in
ignorance of what we have discovered is another question, the discussion
of which must be deferred until we can consult together. Until that time
comes, I can only repeat my advice--wait till the next news reaches you
from Gleninch."

I waited. What I suffered, what Eustace thought of me, does not matter.
Nothing matters now but the facts.

In less than a fortnight more the task of restoring the letter was
completed. Excepting certain instances, in wh