tace leaving that house."

"Well, my dear, and what of that?"

"My mind is in a bad way, Benjamin. Everything my husband does that I
don't understand rouses my suspicion now."

Benjamin lifted his withered old hands, and let them drop on his knees
again in mute lamentation over me.

"I tell you again," I went on, "my life is unendurable to me. I won't
answer for what I may do if I am left much longer to live in doubt of
the one man on earth whom I love. You have had experience of the world.
Suppose you were shut out from Eustace's confidence, as I am? Suppose
you were as fond of him as I am, and felt your position as bitterly as I
feel it--what would you do?"

The question was plain. Benjamin met it with a plain answer.

"I think I should find my way, my dear, to some intimate friend of your
husband's," he said, "and make a few discreet inquiries in that quarter
first."

Some intimate friend of my husband's? I considered with myself. There
was but one friend of his whom I knew of--my uncle's correspondent,
Major Fitz-David. My heart beat fast as the name recurred to my memory.
Suppose I followed Benjamin's advice? Suppose I applied to Major
Fitz-David? Even if he, too, refused to answer my questions, my position
would not be more helpless than it was now. I determined to make the
attempt. The only difficulty in the way, so far, was to discover the
Major's address. I had given back his letter to Doctor Starkweather,
at my uncle's own request. I remembered that the address from which the
Major wrote was somewhere in London--and I remembered no more.

"Thank you, old friend; you have given me an idea already," I said to
Benjamin. "Have you got a Directory in your house?"

"No, my dear," he rejoined, looking very much puzzled. "But I can easily
send out and borrow one."

We returned to the villa. The servant was sent at once to the nearest
stationer's to borrow a Directory. She returned with the book just as we
sat down to dinner. Searching for the Major's name under the letter F, I
was startled by a new discovery.

"Benjamin!" I said. "This is a strange coincidence. Look here!"

He looked where I pointed. Major Fitz-David's address was Number Sixteen
Vivian Place--the very house which I had seen my husband leaving as we
passed in the carriage!

CHAPTER VII. ON THE WAY TO THE MAJOR.

"YES," said Benjamin. "It _is_ a coincidence certainly. Still--"

He stopped and looked at me. He seemed a little doubtf