Jack Hearty was a good man of business, and an honest, and the post suited him to a T. Dame Hearty's delight was naturally to cook and to wash, or in undertaking any of those rough duties that she had been accustomed to in her former life, but as these were not necessary—others having been engaged for that purpose, she was entrusted with the keys of the house, and became an excellent housekeeper, loved and respected by those under her.
Had our artist entirely abandoned art now that he had succeeded to his uncle's fortune and estate? Far from it. First and foremost among the improvements that he made was the building of a spacious studio, which he fitted up in a manner worthy of his taste and his means. In this he executed his great picture, which created such a furore on the following year at the Royal Academy, entitled, "Captured by the Brigands." The English captive in the composition was a faithful likeness of our artist himself, whilst the bronzed features of his captors, which were deeply impressed upon his memory were as like to the originals, our artist assures us, as if they had sat for them. The time is represented as towards evening. The light and shade powerful. The whole effect of the picture weird and unearthly. An offer had been made for it, but the would-be buyer was informed that it was not for sale. So it was hung up in the parlour of the artist's own country house, according to the wish of his loving wife, who liked constantly to be reminded of this weird episode in the life of the man she loved.
Time wore on, and not a quarrel, not a difference of opinion even arose to mar the happiness of this loving pair, when one fine morning a great event transpired. The lady of this household presented her liege lord with a son and heir, a fine healthy boy, who was christened John, after his grandfather, and never called other than Jack by his parents. Despite her household duties, Mrs. Vandyke McGuilp always managed to find time to pursue her studies, while her natural intelligence and application were such that the progress she made under her husband's tuition, was simply marvellous. In a few years the McGuilps purchased a house in town in a fashionable quarter, and the "at homes" or "conversaziones," as they were called in those days, of Mrs. Vandyke McGuilp, were the talk of all the elite. Helen now felt herself called upon to enact the rôle of a grand lady, and in this her natural dignity, intelligence, and sweetness of disposition, enabled her to succeed to perfection.
Little more remains to be told. After a few seasons in town, and having run the usual curriculum of operas, balls, parties, concerts, visiting, and even presentation at court, the sameness and artificiality of such an existence palled upon these two artless and ingenuous lovers of nature, so the house in town was at length given up, and our artist retired into the country, where he gave up his time more thoroughly to the study of his art, working ever with increased ardour through the kind encouragement and sympathy of his loving wife.
Nor was Mrs. Vandyke McGuilp forgetful of her old friends. She fondly cherished the memory of her dear Mr. Oldstone, her friend and adviser, and it grieved her that she had not been able to be near him and attend upon him during his last moments on earth. She had also made the acquaintance of Mr. Rustcoin, who frequently called upon them. Had even been to their "at homes" when they lived in London. This gentleman had become quite reconciled to the idea of his friend Vandyke McGuilp's marriage with the daughter of a country innkeeper, and agreed with his friend Oldstone that this was quite an exceptional case. He had even been heard to declare before a company of friends that the most charming woman he had ever met for intelligence, natural grace, sound sense, good heartedness, tact, and savoir faire, was the wife of his friend Mr. Vandyke McGuilp.
A few years later, when it fell to Mr. Rustcoin's turn to pay the debt of nature, this gentleman recollecting how fondly the memory of his friend Oldstone was cherished by those two charming people, the McGuilps, having presented his large collection of antiquities to his native city of York, bequeathed to our friends both the bust and the oil picture of his brother antiquary, which latter, our readers will remember, was painted by the hand of our artist himself.
Our friend Rustcoin has now long gone to his rest, and both bust and portrait of Mr. Oldstone adorn the country mansion of the McGuilps. Among other cherished relics of their friend is a bound and illustrated work conspicuously placed in their library, entitled: "Tales of the Wonder Club," by Dryasdust, out of which volume little Jack McGuilp often pesters his mother to read a story to him.
CONCLUSION.
In conclusion, let me beg the reader to accompany me in imagination to the site of the once far-famed old Elizabethan hostelry, "The Headless Lady" and what do we see? Alas! not even the old blackened ruin is there to mark the spot. All, all, has been swept away by the ruthless hand of modern civilisation.