CHAPTER XLV.
A FEW WORDS BY SPENSER TAIT.
When the case has been stated, when the witnesses for and against have given their evidence, when the counsel on both sides have delivered their speeches, it is then customary for the judge to sum up the entire matter for the direction of the jury. In this instance I am the judge, and here is the Larcher affair summed up for the understanding of the public. It has fallen to my share to wind up the story, so here I set down such results as happened from the confession of Mrs. Hilliston.
The immediate result of her death was the marriage of the widower to Mrs. Bezel, which took place, so to speak, when the latter was on her deathbed. She lingered out another two months, and died in the arms of her husband, at peace with all the world. Denis heartily forgave her, and the only bitter drop in her cup was the absence of her child. Yet when Captain Larcher suggested that Jenny should be told the truth, and brought to say good-by to her mother, Mrs. Bezel, with a self-denial for which I hardly gave her credit, refused to permit such a thing. She thought that Jenny would be happier if she was ignorant of the truth, and moreover, Mrs. Bezel shrank from letting her child know how she had lived during these many years. At all events Jenny never learned the truth, and Mrs. Bezel died without seeing her daughter. That she forgave Hilliston for having deprived her of the child is, I think, a proof of her goodness of heart, for there is no doubt that he acted selfishly and cruelly in doing so. But enough of Mrs. Bezel, her faults and virtues. She lies in Hampstead Cemetery under a plain stone of rose-colored granite, inscribed "To the memory of Mona Hilliston." So she had her wish at last, and died an honest woman.
Captain Larcher returned with Kerry to the cottage in Nightingale Lane, as he could not make up his mind to resume his own name, or tear himself away from the bookworm life of twenty-five years. No one knew the truth save Claude, Jenny, and myself, for Hilliston being absent from England does not count. The vicar was also enlightened on the subject, and expressed much astonishment at the strange series of events which had culminated in the death and confession of Mrs. Hilliston. Unwilling to lose his old crony he heartily approved of Larcher's determination to resume his usual life, and so the matter was settled. Captain Larcher will remain Mr. Ferdinand Paynton to the end of his days, and will still be a mystery to the gossips of Thorston; how great a one they can never guess.
But a notable change has taken place in his habits. He is no longer a recluse, a misanthrope. When I am at the Manor House he visits me there; he is a constant guest at the vicarage, and may be seen frequently fishing beside Kerry on the banks of the Lax. Following the example of his master, Denis Bantry also renounced his name, which he superstitiously regarded as one of ill-omen, and called himself Kerry for the rest of his life. If he was grieved for his unhappy sister, her life and her death, he finds consolation in the society of Mrs. Claude Larcher, who conducts herself toward him as a niece should do. But the relationship is not known beyond the walls of Rose Cottage, lest it might lead to inquiries, and Jenny is still known as the daughter of Mr. Paynton.
That Claude should call Mr. Paynton "father" is of course only regarded as natural by the village. Has he not married Jenny, and does he not stand in the relation of a son to the old man? Thorston gossips think he is a most perfect son-in-law, and never guess that any nearer relationship exists between them.
Of course Jenny and Claude were married as speedily as possible, and I do not know a happier couple. Mrs. Larcher has quite converted me with regard to the fair sex, and plumes herself on her victory. She has the audacity to say that she will yet succeed in getting me married, but I think that is beyond her powers. Mr. Linton married them, and they spent their honeymoon at the Manor House, which I lent them for the occasion. Indeed, while at Thorston they invariably live with me, and I should be offended did they take up their quarters anywhere else. Not that they have any desire to do so, for Rose Cottage is rather small, and, besides, the Manor is within easy distance of it, so that Jenny can see her father—or, rather, her father-in-law—as often as she chooses.
Claude still goes to different parts of the world to build bridges and construct railways. Sometimes his wife goes with him, but she does not like to be so long away from Thorston. Paynton is now an old man, and cannot live long, so Mrs. Larcher wishes to be near him as much as possible. Besides, the cares of the nursery take up her attention, so I think that in a few months Claude will settle down to business in London, and make his home at Thorston, as he always intended to do. There is a pleasant little place not far from the Manor which I have been commissioned to buy for him, so I really think that next year Claude and Jenny will take up their residence among us.
The only person who disapproved of the marriage was Frank Linton, who accused Jenny of jilting him. This was utter nonsense, as she never had any intention of becoming his wife. However, the author considers himself badly treated, and has taken up his quarters in London, where he writes books, and poses in Chelsea circles. But I do not think he will ever write so excellent a book as "A Whim of Fate," perhaps because Mrs. Claude Larcher refuses to tell him any more plots. She has a good reason for so doing, as the troubles which arose out of her finding the murder papers in the garret of Rose Cottage have startled her in no small degree. Still, as I tell her, she must look on such troubles as a blessing in disguise, for, after all, they led to her marriage and present happiness. But Mrs. Claude does not see the matter in so amiable a light.