PLEASANT DREAMS!
The duel had been fought to a finish, and Margaret had won.
When Mrs. Gregory Lamb was brought back out of that fit by which
she had been overtaken she was lying on Cuthbert Grahame's bed,
on which he had lived for so long, and died at her hand; the bed
whose image had been borne in upon her phantom-haunted brain
with such horrible persistency. Dr. Twelves was bending over
her, standing where he had stood many a time to bend over the
man she slew. She was little better than a babbling idiot. She
is not much more than that now. She is a certified lunatic,
under kindly, yet watchful, guardianship, the expense of which
is paid by the girl whom she so cruelly wronged.
The physical and mental strain which had been placed upon her
during that period of increasing financial pressure had been
great; her attempts to relieve it by a resort to ether had made
it ten times greater. How much of the spirit she drank has not
been exactly ascertained. She must have consumed large
quantities. Probably only the natural strength of her
constitution enabled her to resist its effects so long as she
did. Undoubtedly the habit of ether drinking had increased in
her to such an extent that in any case it would ultimately have
produced insanity. Her reason was already tottering when she was
brought face to face with Margaret Wallace on the night of her
reception, and was put to such dire confusion. It is believed
that she touched no solid food afterwards, subsisting solely
upon ether. Isaac Luker asserted that she carried a large bottle
of it in her bag when they journeyed together from London, and
was sipping its contents throughout the day.
It was not strange that when the moment came she was ripe to
fall a ready victim to Margaret's carefully laid lures. The girl
fought her with weapons to which she was incapable of offering
resistance.
Cuthbert Grahame's money, which had been searched for so long in
vain, was found deposited in the hiding-place the secret of
which she had revealed to Mrs. Lamb, intending, by working on
her guilty conscience and so extorting from her a confession,
which it was certain could never be obtained from her by any
other means, to destroy her when she went to seek it. Margaret
is now Mrs. Henry Talfourd. She is married to one who loved and
loves her, and for the love of whom she was willing to sacrifice
all. She is a rich woman. Bearing in mind the singularity of the
circumstances under which it has come into her possession, she
was desirous of having nothing to do with the dead man's money.
But it was pointed out that, excepting herself, there was no
possible claimant. She regards herself as an almoner, as a
steward of Cuthbert Grahame's great possessions rather than
their owner, and employs by far the larger portion of the income
they produce in works of benefaction. She still produces
pictures in black and white and in colour; there are few women
artists who have achieved a more substantial success.
Her husband has not realised his dreams. "The Gordian Knot" has
never been produced. He burnt the play with his own hands, and
has never written another. He alone knows why, though his wife
may have a shrewd suspicion. So far he has been content to act
as his wife's right-hand man, an occupation which hitherto has
kept him fully employed.
Dr. Twelves lives and flourishes. He has been heard to declare
that never again will he proffer assistance to any strange woman
whom he finds by the wayside. Nannie Foreshaw is dead. Messrs.
McTavish & Brown have, if anything, improved their standing as
family solicitors of undoubted integrity; Mrs. Talfourd is one
of their most valued clients.
Mrs. Talfourd presented Mr. Gregory Lamb with a passage to South
Africa, and with a sum of money when he landed. As he has never
asked for any more money, and nothing has been heard of him
since, the presumption is that he has perished in that grave of
many reputations. His wife's solicitor continues to exist, and
is still a very well-known gentleman in certain extremely
crooked walks of life.
Cuthbert Grahame's home has been turned into a sanatorium and
holiday home for children. It could hardly be employed for a
better purpose. Boys and girls scamper among the trees; their
voices and their laughter ring through the house. They people it
with fresh associations; the old ghosts are gone. They find
health and happiness in the place where once was neither. And
when, at night, they lay their tired heads upon their pillows,
they dream only pleasant dreams. When they wake in the morning,
whether actually the skies be fair or clouded, to them it is
always as if the sun was shining.
THE ABERDEEN UNIVERSITY PRESS LIMITED