"Let us, at least, be fully restored to our rights," he would say. "Let my father's honour be re-established; let me have a name to bestow upon my bride; and then, when we have exposed the wretched plot by which we were overthrown, we may have the satisfaction of forgiving those who wronged us, and may, if they choose, in turn, accept their forgiveness."
Helen grieved, but could prevail no farther. And, fortunately, the period marked by her brother was fast approaching. Mr. Winter had been already in communication with the friends of Ashton, the clergyman. By good hap, they were able to identify the ring which was found among the buried clothes. This confirmation of the smuggler's story lent it the credit which his character could not give. Everope's confession, attested by Rereworth, had, at least, overthrown the credibility of his previous testimony. And thus the whole case on which the plaintiff in the action had rested his title broke down, and the obscurity which hung around the late Mr. Trevethlan's marriage was finally dissipated.
We need not trouble our readers with the technical proceedings which would terminate in a formal and public reversal of the verdict at Bodmin. Randolph had enjoyed the pleasure of communicating to his wife the approaching result, and, in more kindly temper, was revolving the mode by which they might be reconciled to her friends, when Gertrude came with the message of peace. It was much more than the husband had conceived possible, or than the wife had dared to hope. It left no room for further perverseness. Randolph saw the flush of joy with which Mildred received the offer, and accepted it with eagerness. Mrs. Winston proposed to take them at once to May Fair; and they went without delay.
Without pausing, she conducted them into the presence of Mrs. Pendarrel. And Randolph had taken the mother's offered hand, and Mildred had been pressed to her heart, before either of them well knew what they were about.
Some little awkwardness supervened. Mrs. Winston, with her usual tact, led her sister from the room. Randolph was alone with his father's Esther.
"Mr. Trevethlan," the lady said, after a short silence, and with a faint sigh upon the name, "we have much to forgive each other."
"I have forgiven," Randolph answered. "Let the past be forgotten."
"You have forgiven!" Esther exclaimed mournfully. "Do you know in what you have been wronged?"
"All that is personal to myself has passed from my mind," he replied.
"Ay," said Mrs. Pendarrel, "but there is much that is not personal to yourself. Where is your sister? You are happy in the possession of such a one. Do you know that even to her I have been unkind and unjust?"