"LADY CLARE."
Alice Taylor's story, when repeated to the Canon, and sifted as
carefully as could be, lifted the weight of vague suspicion off the
memories of the two brothers, and at any rate enabled those concerned to
believe each innocent of a hand in the other's death. As to the
earrings, they had only the woman's own word for her innocence, and her
silence seemed to have been accounted for by fright on her own account,
and a stupid ignorance of the value of what she had to tell. Whether
there had not been in it a dash of revenge for the suspicion, and of
anger at the cessation of the careless attentions which James Kingsworth
had not been above paying to so pretty a girl, might be doubted, and her
subsequent history had not been particularly creditable. She had spoken
now simply to gain money, and a small allowance was settled on her, for
her tale had indeed lifted a dark cloud from the past. It brought her
into much notice, though it had been known in hints to many whom it did
not concern: before the Kingsworths themselves had been informed of it.
A great talk and excitement was raised in the neighbourhood, people went
to visit the cove, and the old story of the Kingsworth succession was in
every mouth. Canon Kingsworth took the whole party back to Fanchester,
and then wrote to Mr Clare an authorised version of Mrs Taylor's
confession, and also of the arrangement for the sale of Kingsworth. The
truth was thus on record, and the wild stories must subside as they had
arisen. Mrs Kingsworth cared little for them. She had been put in
charity with her past, and was ready to be in charity with the present,
even with her sister-in-law, who hardly knew how to dispose of her
gratitude and sense of former harsh judgments of the heiress and her
mother.
So it was "all settled," as Kate said, and desirable houses in
Fanchester were inspected. Applehurst was to be let, and Kate talked of
belonging to the choral society and of "improving her mind" by attending
Shakespeare classes with the other Fanchester young ladies. Nothing
unusual was likely to occur to her any more. At last she was "just like
other girls."
Why did she feel that being like other girls was a little dull? No
answer had yet been received from Malcolm Mackenzie, but Emberance was
in all the flutter of expectation of it, and Kate, as she thought of all
her past excitements, the lover who had proved no lover, the duty to be
done, the crisis that had passed, felt thankful, but a little flat.
It was just a year since the visit of Walter and Eva Kingsworth to
Fanchester, which had done so much to open her eyes, when the Canon
announced that he had invited Walter to come and see him again. Kate
sparkled up eagerly. Now she could talk to Walter and tell him how it
had all been, _now_ he could tell her freely what he thought; she was
not an ignorant child any more, but a wise, experienced woman, able to
recognise the wisdom of his former silence.
And so she told him a day or two after his arrival, as they once more
walked up and down the grey-walled garden together, and Kate talked of
her difficulties with an impulse of confidence never felt towards any
other human being.
"I thought it so hard that you would not speak out plainly to me and
tell me what I ought to do, but I see now that it was quite right, I
should not have understood."
"It would not have been fair to influence you," said Walter.
"Perhaps not. But now you think I was right? Now, you know that you
_can_ speak freely."
"Yes, I can speak freely at last!" cried Walter, pausing in his walk.
"At last! If you knew the trial of silence. How could I speak to the
heiress of Kingsworth or say a word that might not be misconstrued? But
now, now, Kate, Kate, your own self--may I not tell you that I love
you--you--not your wealth, it is too much still; but you--you. My
darling--that is what I want to say."
"I never thought of _that_!" cried Kate abruptly.
"But you will think now; I know you are too innocent to guess."
"No," said Kate, "I was thinking--I thought I liked some one else, but I
did not know anything in those days. Now--"
"Now?" said Walter, as he took her hand.
"Now," said Kate, with her old abruptness, but with a new deeper tone in
her fresh young voice. "_Now_ I know it is you!"
So all _was_ settled, and Katharine Kingsworth found her lot at last.
The clear honesty which was her best inheritance had guided her through
the dangers of her first girlish fancy, and through the perplexities of
her decision, and the aim of her mother's life was fulfilled in spite of
the mistakes she had made in carrying it out.
"If you had not made Katharine a good girl," the Canon said to her, "she
would not have had the chance of her present happiness."
"She _is_ a good girl," said Mrs Kingsworth. "I ought to have found it
out sooner."
"Katie," said Walter Kingsworth to his bride on their wedding day,
"before we go to Scotland I want to show you a place in which we are
both interested. Will you come?"
"Of course I will. Where is it?"
"You shall see."
Kate laughed at the mystery, but after all it mattered little where they
went. As they got out of the train at a station unknown to her before,
and drove across country several miles, through the ripening
cornfields--
"Why, Walter, I have been here before. Why this is Mayford! Is it
Kingsworth you mean?"
"Yes, why not Kingsworth?"
"Well, I do not see why you want to see it. And the bells are ringing.
Not for us surely?"
"Why not? But perhaps they are practising."
Kate was puzzled.
"Will `Mr James' let us in?"
"I think so."
They drove up the well-known avenue, right up to the door, where
familiar figures stood ready to greet them.
"Why, there is your father!"
"Yes, Kate," said Walter, as he lifted his bewildered bride out of the
carriage, "this is the place I wanted you to see. Now you know why I
could not urge you to part with it, when my father wanted to buy it for
a holiday home for us all. Now you know why I could not speak till your
mind was clear. But the Canon knew, and Emberance. For you come back
to the old home after all, for here it is--and here is--"
"Mr James!" cried Kate.
"--Kingsworth," said her father-in-law, taking her hand. "Welcome home,
Katharine--to Kingsworth."