In a few minutes came his honor, Mr. Justice Wilson, saying: "I feared to be late. Madame," to Margaret, "here is a remembrance for you from our friend."
"Oh, open it!" she cried. "Ah, if only he were here!"
There was a card. It said, "Within is my kiss of parting," and as she stood in her bridal dress, René fastened the necklace of great pearls about her neck, while Madame de Courval looked on in wonder at the princely gift.
Then the Judge, taking them aside into Schmidt's room, said: "I am to give you, Vicomte, these papers which make you for your wife the trustee of our friend's estate, a large one, as you may know. My congratulations, Vicomtesse."
"He told me!" said Margaret. "He told me, René." She was too moved to say more.
In an hour, for this was not a time of wedding breakfasts, they were on their way to Cliveden, which Chief-Justice Chew had lent for their honeymoon.
So ends my story, and thus I part with these, the children of my mind. Many of them lived, and have left their names in our history; others, perhaps even more real to me, I dismiss with regret, to become for me, as time runs on, but remembered phantoms of the shadow world of fiction.