They were married a few months before, and Mr. Bayard insisted that the happy couple should make their home at his house.
But where is Ellen Bayard?
O, she is Mrs. Bigelow now, and her husband is at the head of a large book establishment in New York.
Bobby's dream had been realized, and he was the happiest man in the world—at least he thought so, which is just the same thing. He had been successful in business; his wife—the friend and companion of his youth, the brightest filament of the bright vision his fancy had woven—had been won, and the future glowed with brilliant promises.
He had been successful; but neither nor all of the things we have mentioned constituted his highest and truest success—not his business prosperity, not the bright promise of wealth in store for him, not his good name among men, not even the beautiful and loving wife who had cast her lot with his to the end of time. These were successes, great and worthy, but not the highest success.
He had made himself a man,—this was his real success,—a true, a Christian man. He had lived a noble life. He had reared the lofty structure of his manhood upon a solid foundation—principle. It is the rock which the winds of temptation and the rains of selfishness cannot move.
Robert Bright is happy because he is good. Tom Spicer, now in the state prison, is unhappy,—not because he is in the state prison, but because the evil passions of his nature are at war with the peace of his soul. He has fed the good that was within him upon straw and husks, and starved it out. He is a body only; the soul is dead in trespasses and sin. He loves no one, and no one loves him.
During the past summer, Mr. Bright and his lady took a journey "down east." Annie insisted upon visiting the State Reform School; and her husband drove through the forest by which he had made his escape on that eventful night. Afterwards they called upon Sam Ray, who had been "dead sure that Bobby would one day be a great man." He was about the same person, and was astonished and delighted when our hero introduced himself.
They spent a couple of hours in talking over the past, and at his departure, Mr. Bright made him a handsome present in such a delicate manner that he could not help accepting it.
Squire Lee is still as hale and hearty as ever, and is never so happy as when Annie and her husband come to Riverdale to spend the Sabbath. He is fully of the opinion that Mr. Bright is the greatest man on the western continent, and he would not be in the least surprised if he should be elected President of the United States one of these days.