“Don't worry, yet, Captain,” said Aunt Ella. “Florence's father won't be out any money if there's any legal way of making the bank bear the loss.”
When Aunt Ella and Florence returned to Fernborough Hall they told Alice the wonderful story.
“I am so glad for your sake, Florence, and the Captain's too. I think Aunt Ella's suggestion about sending the cablegram to your father was an excellent one.”
The story was told, also, to Sir Stuart. He was gratified to learn that two officers of Her Majesty's army had been freed from the charge of embezzlement, but deplored the fact that gambling was so prevalent among them.
“I am an Englishman born and bred,” said he, “but I think the law of primogeniture is, as a general rule, a bad one. Driving, as it does, the younger sons into the army, the navy, the church, and the law may be beneficial, for the branches of our national defence and the professions must be recruited from a stratum of intelligent men; the lack of money may be a spur to ambition in many instances, but it often leads to devious practices, and—” he saw that he had three interested listeners—“the whole system is contrary to your countrymen's idea that all men are created free and equal. While I cannot accept that doctrine in toto, I do believe that the bestowal of titles and fortune upon the eldest son is attended with grave evils, not only among our nobility, but in our royal successions. The Almighty does not follow such a law in endowing his children, and it is contrary to Nature's dictum 'the survival of the fittest.'”
Sir Stuart had expressed such opinions during his term in Parliament. The path of the political pioneer is strewn with temporary defeats, but all reforms, based upon truth, are ultimately successful, or life would be a stagnant pool instead of a river of progress.
A letter from Maude contained a solution of the mystery.
“DEAR AUNT ELLA AND SISTER FLO:—What a rumpus there has been about that raised check. Father was as dumb as an oyster about the affair until he had it all settled, then he told ma and me.
“How you two feminines must have suffered—one from hopeless love—and the other from helpless sympathy. But it is all over now, and the probity of two, presumably, gallant officers is vindicated, while the paying teller of father's bank is behind the bars with a certain prospect of years of manual labour for bed and board. Why will men be so foolish? Easily answered. The love of gold, not made in an honest way, but by speculating with other folks' money. Mr. Barr, the aforesaid teller, is a nice young fellow with a wife and two children, but his life is wrecked. Of course she will get a divorce and try to find a better man. We are all well, including Mr. Merry. He intended to take the place in father's office that Quincy spoke about, but Harry—there, I've written it, so will let it go—had a better position offered him by Mr. Curtis Carter, one of Quincy's old friends, and he's doing splendidly Mr. Carter told me.
“I am heartbroken about Quincy. I trust Alice's hopes may be realized and most of the time I share them.