"Beatrice, you would have been just the wife for Loftus."
"No, he was not the husband meant for me. Some day my true lover may come. If not, I have always been a happy girl, Mrs. Bertram, I am happy still. I feel full of delight to-night. Now I must go. Only, first of all, do something—something for the girl who has been made your daughter to-day."
"Something for—for Josephine?"
"For Nina, whose great love will raise and save your son. Take this packet; put it into the fire."
"What is it, Beatrice? I am weak. Are there any more shocks?"
"No. Josephine does not wish the story of her birth to be ever revealed. She is a Bertram now without any need of proving her title. Her object is to guard her husband's secret, and she does this, when she asks his mother to burn this packet which contains the full proofs of her identity as a Bertram."
Mrs. Bertram shivered. She touched the packet. Then she gave it back to Beatrice.
"Put it into the fire yourself," she said. "Beatrice, you have saved us all."
This little scene happened on the evening of Bertram's wedding-day. Just at that same hour Mrs. Bell and Mrs. Butler were hob-nobbing over their tea.
"For my part," said Mrs. Butler, "I no longer regret the absence of my brooch. I will own I fretted for it when there seemed likely to be no wedding to speak of. For why should the Northbury folks put themselves out about the marriage of two strangers. But now I am glad Beatrice has it, for though she is not a bride she is a beautiful character, and no mistake, and such should be encouraged."