s suggested between their fate and mine
quite overcame me. What had I done to deserve my happiness? What
had _they_ done, poor souls, to deserve their misery? My nerves were
overwrought, I dare says after reading the dreadful confession of
Eustace's first wife. I burst out crying--and I was all the better for
it afterward!

CHAPTER XLIX. PAST AND FUTURE.

I write from memory, unassisted by notes or diaries; and I have
no distinct recollection of the length of our residence abroad. It
certainly extended over a period of some months. Long after Eustace was
strong enough to take the journey to London the doctors persisted in
keeping him in Paris. He had shown symptoms of weakness in one of his
lungs, and his medical advisers, seeing that he prospered in the dry
atmosphere of France, warned him to be careful of breathing too soon the
moist air of his own country.

Thus it happened that we were still in Paris when I received my next
news from Gleninch.

This time no letters passed on either side. To my surprise and delight,
Benjamin quietly made his appearance one morning in our pretty French
drawing-room. He was so preternaturally smart in his dress, and so
incomprehensibly anxious (while my husband was in the way) to make us
understand that his reasons for visiting Paris were holiday reasons
only, that I at once suspected him of having crossed the Channel in
a double character--say, as tourist in search of pleasure, when third
persons were present; as ambassador from Mr. Playmore, when he and I had
the room to ourselves.

Later in the day I contrived that we should be left together, and I soon
found that my anticipations had not misled me. Benjamin had set out for
Paris, at Mr. Playmore's express request, to consult with me as to the
future, and to enlighten me as to the past. He presented me with his
credentials in the shape of a little note from the lawyer.

"There are some few points" (Mr. Playmore wrote) "which the recovery
of the letter does not seem to clear up. I have done my best, with Mr.
Benjamin's assistance, to find the right explanation of these debatable
matters; and I have treated the subject, for the sake of brevity, in the
form of Questions and Answers. Will you accept me as interpreter, after
the mistakes I made when you consulted me in Edinburgh? Events, I admit,
have proved that I was entirely wrong in trying to prevent you from
returning to Dexter--and partially wrong in suspecting Dexter of