“Ah! Is it so? But doubtless!” Mr. Goupil paused and nodded several times. “Allow me, please, the explanation of certain ever-to-be-regretted circumstances. You must know, then, that after the death of my excellent and never-to-be-forgotten wife I was plunged in sorrow. You, sir, have never lost a beloved wife—but, no, no, of a certainty you have not!” Mr. Goupil laughed at himself heartily before he went on. “Very well. To pursue. In my sorrow I returned to the country of my birth for a visit, to France, to Moissac, where live many of my relations. But, sir, one does not elude Sorrow by crossing the ocean! No, no, it is here!” Mr. Goupil struck himself twice on the chest. “Soon I return, sir, yet in the brief period of my absence the harm has been done!” He paused with dramatic effect.
“Indeed,” said Ned sympathetically, yet puzzled.
“Yes, sir, for although I am absent but five months, yet when I return a so horrible deed has been perpetrated in my name.”
“Indeed.” It was Laurie’s turn this time. Mr. Goupil’s large countenance depicted the utmost dejection, but only for a moment.
“In my absence,” he went on, brightening, “my lawyer, in whose hands all my affairs of person were left, learned of the terms of the will of my late wife’s mother. The will says that at the death of my late wife the property in this so quaint town occupied by my dear sister-in-law shall revert. Thereupon, stupid that he was, my lawyer proceeds to write to my sister-in-law to that effect. The rest, sir, you know. Yet this lamentable news reached me but three days ago! ‘What,’ asks this lawyer, ‘will you do with this property in Orstead, New York?’
“‘What property do you speak of?’ I ask him. He tells me then. I am overcome. I am frantic. ‘Imbecile!’ I shout. ‘What have you done?’ I come at once by the fastest of trains. I am here!”
“That—that was very nice of you,” faltered Laurie, keeping his eyes carefully away from Ned.
“Nice! But what else to be done? For nothing at all would I have had it so happen, and so I hasten to make amends, to offer apologies to my dear wife’s sister, to you, sir, to correct a so great mistake!”
“Certainly,” assented Laurie hurriedly. “Of course. But what I don’t understand is why the letter that Miss Comfort wrote to you didn’t reach you, sir.”
Mr. Goupil made a gesture of despair. “I will explain it also. My dear sister-in-law made a mistake of the address. I saw the letter. It was wrong. I—but wait!” Mr. Goupil drew forth a handsome card-case, selected of the contents, and reached forward. Laurie took the card and read: