es, for this
sufficient reason--he had a letter in his hand, and he said, "Is this
for you, ma'am?"

A glance at the address showed me Benjamin's handwriting.

Had they tried the experiment of recovering the letter? and had they
failed?

Somebody put my money in my bag, and politely led me out to the little
hired carriage which was waiting for me at the door. I remember nothing
distinctly until I open ed the letter on my way home. The first words
told me that the dust-heap had been examined, and that the fragments of
the torn letter had been found.

CHAPTER XLV. THE DUST-HEAP DISTURBED.

My head turned giddy. I was obliged to wait and let my overpowering
agitation subside, before I could read any more.

Looking at the letter again, after an interval, my eyes fell
accidentally on a sentence near the end, which surprised and startled
me.

I stopped the driver of the carriage, at the entrance to the street
in which our lodgings were situated, and told him to take me to the
beautiful park of Paris--the famous Bois de Boulogne. My object was to
gain time enough, in this way, to read the letter carefully through
by myself, and to ascertain whether I ought or ought not to keep the
receipt of it a secret before I confronted my husband and his mother at
home.

This precaution taken, I read the narrative which my good Benjamin
had so wisely and so thoughtfully written for me. Treating the various
incidents methodically, he began with the Report which had arrived, in
due course of mail, from our agent in America.

Our man had successfully traced the lodgekeeper's daughter and her
husband to a small town in one of the Western States. Mr. Playmore's
letter of introduction at once secured him a cordial reception from the
married pair, and a patient hearing when he stated the object of his
voyage across the Atlantic.

His first questions led to no very encouraging results. The woman was
confused and surprised, and was apparently quite unable to exert her
memory to any useful purpose. Fortunately, her husband proved to be a
very intelligent man. He took the agent privately aside, and said to
him, "I understand my wife, and you don't. Tell me exactly what it is
you want to know, and leave it to me to discover how much she remembers
and how much she forgets."

This sensible suggestion was readily accepted. The agent waited for
events a day and a night.

Early the next morning the husband said to him, "Talk to my wife