IF I had been traveling homeward in my own carriage, theremaining chapters of this narrative would never have beenwritten. Before we had been an hour on the road I should havecalled to the driver, and should have told him to turn back.

Who can be always resolute?

In asking that question, I speak of the women, not of the men. Ihad been resolute in turning a deaf ear to Mr. Playmore's doubtsand cautions; resolute in holding out against my mother-in-law;resolute in taking my place by the French mail. Until ten minutesafter we had driven away from the inn my courage held out--andthen it failed me; then I said to myself, "You wretch, you havedeserted your husband!" For hours afterward, if I could havestopped the mail, I would have done it. I hated the conductor,the kindest of men. I hated the Spanish ponies that drew us, thecheeriest animals that ever jingled a string of bells. I hatedthe bright day that _would_ make things pleasant, and the bracingair that forced me to feel the luxury of breathing whether Iliked it or not. Never was a journey more miserable than my safeand easy journey to the frontier. But one little comfort helpedme to bear my heart-ache resignedly--a stolen morsel of Eustace'shair. We had started at an hour of the morning when he was stillsound asleep. I could creep into his room, and kiss him, and cryover him softly, and cut off a stray lock of his hair, withoutdanger of discovery. How I summoned resolution enough to leavehim is, to this hour, not clear to my mind. I think mymother-in-law must have helped me, without meaning to do it. Shecame into the room with an erect head and a cold eye; she said,with an unmerciful emphasis on the word, "If you _mean_ to go,Valeria, the carriage is here." Any woman with a spark of spiritin her would have "meant" it under those circumstances. I meantit--and did it.

And then I was sorry for it. Poor humanity! Time has got all thecredit of being the great consoler of afflicted mortals. In myopinion, Time has been overrated in this matter. Distance doesthe same beneficent work far more speedily, and (when assisted byChange) far more effectually as well. On the railroad to Paris, Ibecame capable of taking a sensible view of my position. I couldnow remind myself that my husband's reception of me--after thefirst surprise and the first happiness had passed away--might nothave justified his mother's confidence in him. Admitting that Iran a risk in going back to Miserrimus Dexter, should I not havebeen equally rash, in another way, if I had returned, uninvited,to a husband who had declared that our conjugal happiness wasimpossible, and that our married life was at an end? Besides, whocould say that the events of the future might not y et justifyme--not only to myself, but to him? I might yet hear him say,"She was inquisitive when she had no business to inquire; she wasobstinate when she ought; to have listened to reason; she left mybedside when other women would have remained; but in the end sheatoned for it all--she turned out to be right!"

I rested a day at Paris and wrote three letters.

One to Benjamin, telling him to expect me the next evening. Oneto Mr. Playmore, warning him, in good time, that I meant to makea last effort to penetrate the mystery at Gleninch. One toEustace (of a few lines only), owning that I had helped to nursehim through the dangerous part of his illness; confessing the onereason which had prevailed with me to leave him; and entreatinghim to suspend his opinion of me until time had proved that Iloved him more dearly than ever. This last letter I inclosed tomy mother-in-law, leaving it to her discretion to choose theright time for giving it to her son. I positively forbade Mrs.Macallan, however, to tell Eustace of the new tie between us.Although he _had_ separated himself from me, I was determinedthat he should not hear it from other lips than mine. Never mindwhy. There are certain little matters which I must keep tomyself; and this is one of them.

My letters being written, my duty was done. I was free to play mylast card in the game--the darkly doubtful game which was neitherquite for me nor quite against me as the chances now stood.