Eunice was Betty's first cousin, and the two girls had been brought up together, almost from infancy. Moreover, they were friendly, if not precisely intimate. Eunice was absolutely penniless, and I could not send her away, even with provision for her financial future, without a full explanation to Betty. Now whatever my surmises and suspicions there was no direct evidence that Francis Graeme's death had been due to violence; he was resting quietly in S. Saviour's churchyard, and Betty's sorrow ought not to be reawakened except for grave cause. Whatever part Eunice Trevor had taken in the tragedy--always assuming that there had been a tragedy--must have been a consequent of her unfortunate entanglement with John Thaneford; and God knows she had been punished for her fault through the irremediable wound to her affections. I could not believe, moreover, that she had been an active participant in any crime, overt or covert. Circumstances might have made her a confidante, even a tool, but she had not been an actual accessory to Francis Graeme's death, either before or after the event. So much by way of simple justice to the girl. In the second place, the chapter of incidents seemed to have closed with the acquittal of Dave Campion and the disappearance of John Thaneford. No word of any kind had come from the latter, and his whereabouts remained entirely unknown; it was a fair presumption that he never would reappear to trouble us. His financial affairs were hopelessly involved, and "Thane Court" itself was to be sold at public auction in February in order to satisfy the demands of the creditors. And finally, while the young woman's conduct had been indiscreet, if not absolutely disloyal, her lesson had been an exceedingly bitter one, and it was charitable to assume that it had been taken to heart. After my marriage to Betty in December it would be time enough to consider making other arrangements. Yes, my decision was taken, and now it was necessary to communicate it to Eunice herself. Miss Trevor listened to my proposal in stony silence, but in the first flush of my new happiness I could easily overlook even a direct ungraciousness. Mrs. Anthony was old and a semi-invalid; Betty would have her cousin's companionship during my long continued absence North, and that was enough. The upshot of our conference was that Miss Trevor agreed to stay on at the "Hundred." She admitted that the arrangement would be convenient, as the school position for which she had applied would not be available until the following September. "Then it is settled," I concluded, with as much cordiality as I could put into my voice. "I'm trusting Betty in your hands; you'll take good care of her." "Yes, Mr. Hildebrand, I can certainly promise to do that," she began; then she broke off and looked away as though regretting that she had said even that much.