CONCLUSION.
Amy suddenly appeared to realize--well, our readers can guess what. It
appeared to cross her mind that she was betraying too great happiness,
and was a little too free in betraying it. She hesitated and blushed,
and after an instant of embarrassment Desmond said:
"Oh, don't be afraid, tell me why you are so happy."
"Everything makes me happy, and I shall continue to be happy unless--"
Again the girl stopped short.
"Go on," said Desmond.
"Unless I am to be taken away from your mother."
"Do you desire to remain with my mother?"
"Yes."
"Why?"
"I love your mother."
"You love my mother?"
"Yes, I do."
"And who else?"
The question came in a pointed manner; Amy was a girl nearly sixteen.
"My--I mean Mr. Brooks."
"Who else?"
The girl did not answer.
"Come, Amy, who else do you love?"
"You are real mean."
"I am?"
"Yes."
"How?"
"You know."
"I do?"
"Yes."
"I don't want to be mean, but tell me who else you love?"
"I won't."
"You won't?"
"No."
There was bantering in the tones of both these young people at that
moment.
"Shall I tell you who I love?"
"Yes."
"I love my mother."
"You can't help it."
"I have learned to love Mr. Brooks, your--I mean--well, Mr. Brooks."
In a tantalizing tone the girl asked:
"Who else?"
"Oh, you're real mean," said Desmond, imitating Amy's tone at the
moment she had made the same remark to him.
"I don't want to be mean."
"You don't?"
"No."
"Will you keep my secret?"
"Yes," came the eager answer.
"Honor bright?"
"Yes, honor bright."
"You won't tell even my mother?"
The girl did not answer.
"Come, promise."
"I promise."
"I've met a girl I love, and I've made you my confidante, but don't tell
my mother."
Amy had turned desperately pale, and in a pettish, trembling tone, she
said:
"Yes, I will tell your mother."
"You promised not to do so."
"I don't care, I'll break my promise."
"Oh, Amy, you are real mean."
"I can't help it if I am."
"You can't?"
"No."
"Why not?"
"I am mad--real mad."
"You are?"
"Yes."
"Why?"
"Because you went and fell in love with a girl; it's ridiculous,
anyway."
"It is?"
"Yes."
"Why?"
"You are only a boy."
"I am?"
"Yes."
"What are you, pray? you are only a girl."
"I know it."
"I couldn't fall in love with a mere girl, could I?"
"Yes, you could."
Desmond laughed in a merry manner, and said:
"Well, to tell the truth, I did fall in love with a mere girl. Do you
want to hear about her?"
"No."
"You don't?"
"No, I don't."
"I am going to tell you all the same; you are the girl I've fallen in
love with."
There came a bright, happy look to Amy's beautiful face as she said:
"Oh, you are real mean."
"I am?"
"Yes."
"Why?"
"To tell me that so suddenly."
"Well, who else do you love?"
"I love you."
"All right; go and break your promise and tell my mother," said Desmond
in a provoking tone, following his advice by encircling Amy's waist and
imprinting upon her red-hot cheek a kiss.
"You tell your mother yourself," said Amy.
"No, I won't; you said you would."
"Then I will."
"You will?"
"Yes."
"Well, well!"
"Your mother will be glad."
"What?" ejaculated Desmond.
"Your mother will be glad."
"How do you know?"
"She told me so."
That night there was a happy party under the old farmhouse roof. Mrs.
Dare had met her son with tears of joy in her eyes, and Desmond had told
the weird tale of his remarkable adventures.
At once our hero set to work to prepare for college. He had talked the
matter over with his mother and with Amy, and in due time he did enter
Amherst College, and for a long time his adventures ceased. He heard
occasionally from Mr. Brooks, who appeared to be doing well and who sent
money on at intervals, but no explanation. And so the time passed until
Desmond graduated and returned home. He met his mother and Amy, and a
moment later there came forth from the house a well-known figure; it was
Brooks, the whilom wizard tramp.
Again there followed a pleasant evening, and on the following morning
Desmond was out bright and early to take a walk over the farm. He had
gone but a short distance when he saw a figure in the grove near the
house. He advanced and met his old friend the wizard tramp.
"You are out early," said Desmond.
"Yes, I thought I might meet you."
"And you will now tell me how you have succeeded?"
"Yes, Desmond, I will tell you all now, and I owe all to you. We are
rich--very rich. We found the mine, Creedon and I, and we got
capitalists interested and developed it. You were our silent partner,
and to-day you are worth a quarter of a million and I am worth as much
more, or rather Amy is, for I have been working for my child."
"I have suspected all along that Amy was your daughter. Has she told you
anything?"
"Yes, she has told me she is to become your wife."
"What do you think of it?"
"It has been the one hope of my life that you would win her love and she
yours. It was for this reason I insisted upon your returning to the
East, and the wisdom of my plans is fully confirmed."
"You have a revelation to make to me."
"I have made the revelation--Amy is my own child."
"And is that all you have to reveal? I've known that all along."
"That is my most important revelation, but I have another to make. My
father was the younger son of an English nobleman; he married a
beautiful but poor girl, as the world counts riches, and his father
drove him away, and he came here to America. He never saw his brother
again; his nephew, my cousin, inherited the estates and title, but
strange to say, I was the nearest of kin. Five years ago my cousin died;
he left no estate, but the title which had been maintained in honor by
my ancestors has descended to me, and when you marry Amy you will marry
a lord's daughter."
Desmond meditated a moment, and then said:
"I am satisfied to marry the daughter of plain Mr. Brooks."
"Thank you, my son, but I shall clear the estate, and for a season at
least dwell in the ancient halls of my ancestors. I will remain to
witness your marriage and shall then go home to England. And now comes
my last revelation: you and Amy are distantly connected; my remote
ancestors were yours also. Your grandfather came down from the younger
line a long time back, but blood as good as any one's flows in your
veins."
"Yes, from my mother."
"I admit it, _from your mother_."
Our readers know what followed. Amy and Desmond were married, and on
the night of the wedding he remarked to his father-in-law:
"This time I took no desperate chance."
"Neither did Amy when she intrusted her future happiness to you," came
the bright and elegant answer.
The whilom wizard tramp did return to England, and it was in the
ancestral halls that Desmond and Amy spent their delightful honeymoon.
THE END.