THE WINDING OF THE SKEIN
A year after the death of Miss Lorry, two ladies sat in Mrs. Palmer's
drawing-room. One was the widow herself, looking as pretty and as
common as ever, although she now dressed in more subdued tints,
thanks to her companion's frequent admonitions. Eva was near her,
with a bright and expectant look on her face, as though she
anticipated the arrival of some one. It was many months since Allen
had gone out to Bolivia, and this day he was expected back with Mr.
Horace Parkins. Before he departed again for South America, a
ceremony would take place to convert Eva Strode into Mrs. Hill.
"I'm sure I don't know what I shall do without you, Eva dear," said
the widow for the tenth time that day.
"Oh, you'll have Mr. Parkins to console you, Constance."
"Mr. Parkins, indeed?" said Mrs. Palmer tossing her head.--She and Eva
were both in evening-dress, and were waiting for the guests. Allen was
coming, also his mother and Mr. Parkins.--"I don't know why you should
say that, dear."
Eva laughed. "I have seen a number of letters with the Bolivian
stamp on them, Constance----"
"Addressed to you. I should think so. But something better than
letters is coming this evening, Eva."
"Don't try to get out of the position," said Miss Strode, slipping
her arm round the waist of the widow; "you created it yourself.
Besides, Allen told me in his letter that Mr. Parkins talked of no
one and nothing but you. And think, dear, you won't have to alter
your initials, Constance Parkins sounds just as well as Constance
Palmer."
"Better, I think. I don't deny that I like Mr. Parkins."
"Call him Horace----"
"He hasn't given me the right. You forget I saw him only for a month
or so, when he was home last."
"You saw him long enough to fall in love with him."
"I don't deny that--to you; but if he dares to ask me to be his wife,
I'll tell him what I think."
"Quite so, and then we can be married on the same day;--I to Allen,
and you to Horace Parkins. Remember Horace is rich now--the mine has
turned out splendidly."
"I'm rich enough without that," said Mrs. Palmer with a fine colour;
"if I marry, it will be to please myself. I have had quite enough of
marrying for money, and much good it's done me."
"You have done every one good," said Eva, kissing her; "think how kind
you were to me, throughout that terrible time, when----"
"Hark!" said Mrs. Palmer, raising a jewelled finger; "at last!"
Shortly the door opened and Mrs. Hill entered, followed by Allen and
Horace and by Mr. Mask. Eva had already seen Allen, and Mrs. Palmer
had asked him and Horace to dinner, but both ladies were astonished
when they saw the lawyer. "Well, this is a surprise," said the widow,
giving her hand.
"I thought I would come, as this is Allen's welcome home," said Mr.
Mask; "you don't mind?"
"I am delighted."
"And you, Miss Strode?"
"I am pleased too. I look on you as one of my best friends," said Eva,
who did not forget that she owed Mrs. Palmer's protection to the
lawyer's kindness. "Mrs. Hill, how are you?"
"I think you can call me mother now," said the old lady as she
greeted her son's promised wife with a kiss.
"Oh!" said Allen, who looked bronzed and very fit, "I think, mother,
you are usurping my privilege."
"Why should it be a privilege?" said Horace, casting looks at the
widow; "why not make it a universal custom?"
"In that case I should----" began Mrs. Palmer.
"No, you shouldn't," said Horace, "the world wouldn't let you."
"Let me what? You don't know what I was about to say."
Horace would have responded, but the gong thundered.
"You were about to say that you hoped we were hungry," said Mask
slyly; "that is what a hostess usually says."
"That," said Mrs. Palmer in her turn, "is a hint. Mr. Hill, will you
take in Eva?--Mr. Mask----"
"I offer my arm to Mrs. Hill," said the old lawyer.
"In that case," said the widow, smiling, and with a look at the big
American, "I must content myself with you."
Horace said something which made her smile and blush, and then they
all went into a dainty meal, which every one enjoyed. After the
terrible experiences of a year ago, each person seemed bent upon
enjoyment, and the meal was a very bright one. When it was ended, the
gentlemen did not sit over their wine, but joined the ladies almost
immediately. Mrs. Palmer and Mrs. Hill were in the drawing-room
talking in low tones, but Eva was nowhere to be seen. Allen looked
around, and Mrs. Palmer laughed at the sight of his anxious face.
"You'll find her in the garden," she said; "it's quite a perfect night
of the Indian summer, therefore----"
Allen did not wait for further information. He departed at once and
by the quickest way, directly through the French window, which
happened to be open. A few steps along the terrace, under a full
moon, showed him Eva walking on the lawn. At once he sprang down the
steps. "Don't walk on the grass, you foolish child," he said, taking
her arm, "you'll get your feet damp."
"It's too delicious a night for that," said Eva, lifting her lovely
face to the silver moon; "but we can sit in the arbour----"
"Don't you think Parkins will want that? He's bound to come out with
Mrs. Palmer, and then----"
"Does he really mean to propose?"
"He's been talking of nothing else for the last few months, and has
come home for that precise purpose. But for that, he would have
remained with Mark at the mine. Poor Mark has all the work, and we
have all the fun. But I was determined to come to you and make sure
that you hadn't married Saltars after all."
"Poor Saltars," said Eva, smiling, "he did come and ask me; but his
heart was not in the proposal. That terrible grandmother of mine urged
him to the breach. He seemed quite glad when I declined."
"What bad taste," said Allen laughing.
"I think he really loved that poor woman who died," said Eva in low
tones, "and she certainly loved him, when she committed so daring a
crime for his sake."
"It might have been ambition as well as love, Eva, and it certainly
was a fear of starvation in her old age. Miss Lorry wanted to make
herself safe for a happy time, and so when she found your father was
likely to rob her of an expected heaven, she shot him."
"I wish the truth had not been made public, though," said Eva.
"My dear, it was necessary, so as to remove all blame from any one who
may have been suspected. Poor Stag, however, was not able to give Miss
Lorry the splendid funeral he wished to give, out of respect. As you
know, she was buried very quietly. Only Horace and I and Saltars
followed her to her grave."
"Didn't her husband?"
"Giles Merry? No: he never came back, even to see her die. The man
was a brute always. He went off to Africa, I believe, with the money
he borrowed--that's a polite way of putting it--from old Lady Ipsen.
I suppose Mrs. Merry was glad when she heard he was out of the
country?"
Eva nodded. "And yet I think if he had come back, she would have faced
him. Ever since she knew he was not her husband, she seemed to lose
her fear of him. She still calls herself Mrs. Merry for Cain's sake.
No one knows the truth, save you and I and Lady Ipsen."
"Well it's best to let things remain as they are. I trust Mrs. Merry
is more cheerful?"
"Oh yes; the fact is, Cain has converted her."
"Oh, has Cain taken up his residence in Misery Castle?"
Eva laughed. "It is called the House Beautiful now," she said; "Cain
got the name out of the _Pilgrim's Progress_, and he lives there with
his mother and his wife."
"What, did he marry Jane Wasp after all?"
"He did, some months after you left. Wasp was very much against the
match, as he called Cain a vagabond."
"Well he was, you know."
"He is not now. After he joined the Salvation Army he changed
completely and is quite a different person. But even then, Wasp would
not have allowed the match to take place, but that Cain inherited two
hundred pounds from Miss Lorry."
"Ah, poor soul," said Allen sympathetically, "she talked of that sum
when she was dying. Why did she leave it to Cain?"
"She always liked Cain, and I think she was sorry for the slur on his
birth cast by his father. But she left him the money, and then Wasp
found out that Cain was a most desirable son-in-law."
"Does he still belong to the Army?"
"No. Wasp insisted he should leave. So Cain lives at the House
Beautiful and preaches throughout the country. I believe he is to
become a Methodist minister shortly. At all events, Allen, he is
making his poor mother happy, after all the misery she has had."
"And how do Mrs. Merry and Wasp get along?"
"Oh, they rarely see one another, which is just as well. Wasp has been
moved to Westhaven at a higher salary, and is getting along
capitally."
"I suppose he drills his household as much as ever," laughed Allen;
"let us walk, Eva. We can sit on the terrace."
Eva pinched Allen's arm, and he looked, to see Horace sauntering down
the path with Mrs. Palmer. They were making for the arbour. The other
lovers therefore sat on the terrace, so as to afford Horace plenty of
time to propose. And now, Allen, said Eva, I must ask you a few
questions. "What of Father Don and his gang?"
"No one knows. I heard that Red Jerry had been caught by the
Continental police for some robbery. But Foxy and Father Don have
vanished into space with their loot. I regret those diamonds."
"I don't," said Eva proudly; "I would much rather live as your wife on
your money, Allen."
"On my own earnings, you mean?"
"Yes, though you will be very rich when your mother dies."
"I hope that won't be for a long time," said Allen gravely; "poor
mother, she had a sad life with my father."
"Why did he go mad so suddenly, Allen?"
"The shock of those diamonds being carried off, I suppose, Eva. But he
was mad when he stole that wooden hand. Where is it?"
"Buried in the vault. We put it there," said Eva, shuddering; "I
never wish to see it again. Look at the misery it caused. But why did
your father steal it?"
"Never mind. He was mad, and that's the best that can be said. It was
just as well he died while I was away. He would only have lingered on,
an imbecile. I wish my mother would give up the house and come out
with us to Bolivia, Eva."
"We might be able to persuade her. But there's one question I want to
ask: What's become of Butsey? I haven't heard of him, since he left
Mr. Mask."
Allen laughed. "Yes; he gave Mask the slip very smartly," he said,
"a dangerously clever lad is Butsey. I heard he was in America. A
fine field for his talents he'll find there."
"Why did he tell lies about Giles Merry?"
"Because he hated Merry, and wanted to save Miss Lorry. He knew all
the time that Miss Lorry was guilty, but would have hanged Giles to
save her. Had she not confessed, Giles, with that brat lying in the
witness-box, would have been in a strange plight."
"Would they have tried Butsey, had he not got away?"
"I can't say. Perhaps they would. I am not a good lawyer. You had
better ask Mask. However, the boy's gone, and I dare say he'll
some day be lynched in the States. People like him always come to
a bad end, Eva. Well, any more questions?"
"I can't think of any. Why do you ask?"
Allen took her hands, and looked into her eyes. "Because I want to put
the old bad past out of our minds. I want you to ask what you wish to
ask, and I'll answer. Then we'll drop the subject for ever."
"There's nothing more I want to know," said Eva after a pause;
"tell me about our house, Allen."
He kissed her, and then told of the quaint Spanish house in the
sleepy old Spanish town, and told also of the increasing wealth
of the silver mine. "We'll all be millionaires in a few years,
Eva, and then we can return to Europe and take a house in
London."
"Certainly not in Wargrove," said Eva, shivering. "I want to
forget this place with all its horrors. My dream----"
"Don't talk of it, Eva. We'll be married next week, and then life
will be all joy for us both. Ah, here is Mrs. Palmer!----"
"Mrs. Parkins that is to be," said the male figure by the widow's
side; "we're going to travel together."
"I am so glad, Constance," said Eva, kissing her.
"What about me, Miss Strode?" asked the envious American.
"I'll salute you by proxy in this way," said Eva, and kissed Allen.
"Oh, Horace!" sighed Mrs. Palmer, and sank into her lover's arms.
So all four were happy, and the troubles of the past gave place to
the joys of the present. The evil augury of Eva's dream was
fulfilled--the dark night was past, and joy was coming in the
morning. So after all, good had come out of evil.
THE END.
Printed by T. and A. CONSTABLE, Printers to His Majesty at the
Edinburgh University Press