r, and I
tremble no more. Accomplished seducer as Peschiera boasts himself, the
first look upon her face so sweet, yet so noble, convinced me that she
is proof against a legion of Peschieras. Now, then, return we to this
all-important subject,--to this packet. It never reached you. Long years
have passed since then.

"Does it exist still? Into whose hands would it have fallen?

"Try to summon up all your recollections. The servant could not remember
the name of the person to whom it was addressed; she only insisted that
the name began with a B, that it was directed to England, and that to
England she accordingly paid the postage. Whom then, with a name that
begins with B, or (in case the servant's memory here mislead her) whom
did you or your wife know, during your visit to England, with sufficient
intimacy to make it probable that she would select such a person for her
confidant?"

"I cannot conceive," said Riccabocca, shaking his head. "We came to
England shortly after our marriage. Paulina was affected by the climate.
She spoke not a word of English, and indeed not even French, as
might have been expected from her birth, for her father was poor,
and thoroughly Italian. She refused all society. I went, it is true,
somewhat into the London world,--enough to induce me to shrink from the
contrast that my second visit as a beggared refugee would have made
to the reception I met with on my first; but I formed no intimate
friendships. I recall no one whom she could have written to as intimate
with me."

"But," persisted Harley, "think again. Was there no lady well acquainted
with Italian, and with whom, perhaps, for that very reason, your wife
became familiar?"

"Ah, it is true. There was one old lady of retired habits, but who had
been much in Italy. Lady--Lady--I remember--Lady Jane Horton."

"Horton--Lady Jane!" exclaimed Harley; "again; thrice in one day!--is
this wound never to scar over?" Then, noting Riccabocca's look of
surprise, he said, "Excuse me, my friend; I listen to you with renewed
interest. Lady Jane was a distant relation of my own; she judged me,
perhaps, harshly--and I have some painful associations with her name;
but she was a woman of many virtues. Your wife knew her?"

"Not, however, intimately; still, better than any one else in London.
But Paulina would not have written to her; she knew that Lady Jane had
died shortly after her own departure from England. I myself was summoned
back to Italy