"I did, but it came again. I accused Mrs. Jersey of having killed Percy. She gloried in the fact that it was through her he had died. She declared that if Ireland had not held her hand she would have laid him dead at her feet. She exulted that the accident had fulfilled her intention, and taunted me with the fact that I never became his wife. I was very quiet," added Miss Bull, her eyes glittering, "but my blood was boiling. Mrs. Jersey turned her back on me with an insolent laugh and sat down. The stiletto was on the table, her head was turned away. I softly took the dagger, and----"
"No! no!" cried Margery, wailing, "you never did it--you never did it, dear Miss Bull. It was I who----"
"Don't be a fool, child! I did it, and I would do it again." Miss Bull rose. "George, you now know all, go--no, do not shake hands. I have avenged your father, and I expect I will be hanged."
Margery burst out into renewed weeping, and Miss Bull soothed her, talking to George the while. "Tell my sister," she said, "that the name of Howard will not be mentioned. I will die under my false name. No disgrace will be brought on her. As to Dorothy--" here Miss Bull's eyes grew tender--"no disgrace will befall her. Marry her, George, love her, make her a good husband, and--take this kiss to her from a sorely tried woman."
Before the astonished George knew what she was about, he felt a pair of cold lips pressed to his own. The next moment she had pushed him out of the room and had locked the door. That was the last George saw of her.
Whether Margery had agreed to die with her, or whether Miss Bull, knowing what a miserable life the girl would lead after her death, compelled her to take the poison, it will never be known. But when the door was burst open the two women were found on the floor in one another's arms. On the table was an empty glass, and it was ascertained that Miss Bull and Margery had taken prussic acid. Bawdsey entered the room an hour after the death, alarmed by the silence. He found that his prey had escaped. Miss Bull was buried under her false name, and Margery was buried with her. Nothing of Miss Bull's sad past or of her killing of Mrs. Jersey came to light. She passed away with her only friend, and her story was told.
Six months later George Vane was seated in the library of the mansion in St. Giles Square. It was after dinner, and Lord Derrington occupied his usual chair. The old man looked brighter and happier than he had looked for many years. Daily George grew a greater favorite with him, and on the morrow George was to be married. Lord Derrington had insisted that as it was his last night as a bachelor George should dine alone with him, and would not admit even Walter. "It's the last time I'll have you all to myself, George," said the old man, piteously; "after to-morrow Dorothy will possess you."
"Not at all," replied George, "you will have us both. We will come back from the honeymoon in a month, and then we will live here."
"That's all been arranged," said Derrington, testily, "but we won't be two independent bachelors."
"All the better," replied his grandson, cheerily; "a lady in the house will make a lot of difference. You won't know this place when Dorothy is flitting about."