FINAL EXPLANATIONS
One month after the death of Sir Joseph and his wife at
Weed-on-the-Sands, Ralph was talking to his fairy godmother in her
boudoir. He was dressed for a journey, and Lady Sanby was saying a few
last words to him. Audrey was yet in her bedroom, making final
preparations for departure. Since the occurrence of the tragedy she
had been staying with Lady Sanby along with her husband, and the young
couple had only waited for all things to be settled to start on a
voyage to Australia. Lady Sanby was expressing now, as she had
expressed before, her approval of the trip.
"I think you are very wise, my dear boy," she said, leaning back in
her comfortable chair. "A journey round the world will do Audrey
endless good."
"Audrey?" said Shawe, with a smile. "Colonel Ilse will call her
Elsie."
"Well, that is natural, since it was her mother's name. The Colonel
seems to be devoted to the memory of his wife. Had she lived, he would
not have worshipped her so much."
"Grannie, that is cynical. Some men can remain lovers always. I am
sure that I shall always worship Audrey."
"Well," said Lady Sanby, with a charming smile, "in your case there is
much excuse. You and Audrey--Elsie--oh, dear me, how puzzling it is
for her to have two names!--but you have come through so much trouble
in company that you understand one another better than most married
people, and anxiety has drawn you together. Natural--very, very
natural."
"Poor Audrey! She has had a very unhappy time lately," said the young
man, gravely; "and, indeed, all her life she has had trouble, more or
less. Sir Joseph never cared for her, you know."
"Oh, that man never cared for anyone save himself," said Lady
Sanby, tartly. "He was a bear--a clever bear, I admit, but still a
bear. I suppose that one should not speak evil of the dead. All the
same--well, I shall say no more."
"Let us speak of Sir Joseph as kindly as we can," observed Shawe,
quietly, "for, after all, he has left Audrey two thousand a year."
"Out of an estate worth a million or two. It isn't much."
"It is enough for us both until I make an actual success as a
barrister."
"Ah!" Lady Sanby wagged her old head, "that is the only thing I have
to say against this very sensible journey. Is it wise, Ralph, to
interrupt your career?"
"Yes, on the assumption that absence makes the heart grow fonder. But
even if it were not wise, grannie, I should still undertake the
journey for the sake of Audrey. So much of the case has been published
in the papers that if Audrey and I remained in London we should
constantly be bothered by silly people asking questions. If we travel
for a year--as we intend to do--the affair will be forgotten."
"Lady Branwin went down with the deliberate intention of killing her
husband, did she not, Ralph?"
"I really can't say. She certainly said in the office that she would
never see Audrey again, and was going away to do justice. Perry Toat
would have had her arrested, but she slipped away in the fog. Having
learnt from Audrey that Sir Joseph and Miss Pearl were at the Three
Fishers Hotel at Weed-on-the-Sands, she caught the six o'clock train
and arrived at eight. Then she asked at the hotel where her husband
was to be found. In this way she came on to the pier, and, having made
a scene which attracted the attention of those on the promenade, she
suddenly jumped at Branwin and flung both herself and him into the
deep water. When the bodies were discovered they could scarcely be
parted, so tight was Lady Branwin's embrace."
"Well, I expect the miserable woman had some idea of punishing the
brute to whom she had been bound for so many unhappy years," said Lady
Sanby, after a pause; "but I also think that she took sudden advantage
of his being on the pier to drown both him and herself. Miss Pearl
made a fine lot of trouble over the matter."
Shawe could not help smiling. "Miss Pearl was very much concerned
about her reputation, and caused it to be generally known that she,
like Sir Joseph, had really and truly believed Lady Branwin to be
dead. Miss Pearl also made public the fact that she had induced Sir
Joseph to make the codicil to his will giving Audrey, as my wife, the
two thousand a year. Finally, she wrote a letter to the papers, and
stated at the inquest that she had accompanied Sir Joseph to
Weed-on-the-Sands with the sole idea of reconciling him to his
daughter. In fact, she made herself out to be a conventional martyr,
and everyone believed her."
"Oh, I don't think the woman was really ill-natured," said the old
lady, with a shrug. "She certainly behaved very well over Audrey's
money; but I expect she did so in order not to appear the unjust
stepmother."
"Grannie, grannie, will you never credit anyone with good intentions?"
"Oh, I credit Miss Rosy Pearl with all the virtues. She says she has
them, so we must believe her. All the same, she has thought it
necessary to accept an American engagement for three years."
"I expect she will return as the wife of an American millionaire."
"Not at all," said Lady Sanby, coolly. "She is going to marry Lord
Anvers, with the intention of reforming him. He has followed her to
the States for that purpose."
"Poor Miss Pearl!" said Ralph, in a sympathetic tone.
Lady Sanby laughed. "Poor Anvers, I think," she said seriously. "But
what about the Pink Shop?"
"It has been shut up, and the assistants have dispersed to the four
winds, resuming, I believe, their real names. Zobeide has gone with
her mother to Devonshire to live, Parizade has married her artist, and
Peri Banou is Audrey's maid, as you know."
"Fancy having a dumb maid, and yet it has its advantages. Peri
Banou--I do hope your wife will give her a less heathen name--will
keep Audrey's secrets thoroughly."
"Audrey has no secrets," said Ralph, somewhat stiffly, "and Peri Banou
is devoted to her."
"She has every reason to be. Few women would take a maid from that
Pink Shop. It was too notorious."
"Oh! my dear grannie, it was conducted in a most respectable way, both
by Madame Coralie and by Lady Branwin when she masqueraded as her
sister."
"Humph! I certainly heard nothing against it," said Lady Sanby. "But
how did Lady Branwin manage to conduct a business about which she knew
nothing?"
"Well, Eddy Vail learnt the truth, as he found his wife dead. Also, in
order to carry on the business and keep up her disguise, Lady Branwin
had to tell Badoura who she really was."
"Then Vail and Badoura were accomplices after the fact?"
"Yes, they were. How learned you are, grannie," said Ralph, with a
smile. "For that reason they bolted before the police could get hold
of them. Inspector Lanton was very anxious to bring them forward as
witnesses."
"It is just as well that he did not, else many more details would have
been in the papers. As it is, the romance of those two sisters and the
substituted child, and Dora strangling Flora, or Flora, Dora--I'm sure
I don't know which--has startled everyone."
"That is why I am taking Audrey away, so that people may forget the
affair, grannie. And it was Dora Lady Branwin who strangled Flora
Madame Coralie. She did it, I believe, on the impulse of the moment
when Flora threatened to tell the truth to Sir Joseph."
"Do you think that the man would have turned Audrey out of doors had
he found she was not his daughter?"
"He turned her out of doors when he thought that she was," said Shawe,
grimly. "And but for your help, dear Lady Sanby, Audrey would have
been in a terrible position."
"I think you should rather thank Lady Branwin, who took the poor child
in when Sir Joseph behaved so brutally."
"Yes. She loved Audrey, and it was for Audrey's sake that she
strangled her wicked sister, even if she drowned Sir Joseph for her
own sake. It is very strange," added Ralph, musingly, "that Audrey
never suspected the false Madame Coralie was her mother."
"Oh, the very resemblance and the knowledge that Flora and Dora were
twins put Audrey off the scent," explained Lady Sanby, easily. "I see
no difficulty about the matter. Then the birthmark was misleading, and
Lady Branwin changed her voice by some drink, from being soft into a
harsh note. Finally, she nearly always wore that yashmak."
"Lady Branwin did more than change her voice, grannie. She changed the
whole of her nature; and from being a meek, timid little woman she
became as hard and cruel as Madame Coralie had been."
"The twin natures got mixed up, I suppose," said grannie, flippantly.
"Well, both the sisters are dead, and so is the man who played with
them as a child, so let us say no more about them. What has become of
Sir Joseph's money?"
"Beyond the two thousand a year to Audrey, which was left to her as my
wife, and various legacies, the rest goes to his next-of-kin."
"Miss Pearl must have been angry that she did not get any money?"
"She was. Sir Joseph intended to make a new will after he married her,
as it was useless to make one before. But Lady Branwin, rising from
the grave, upset everything. Poor woman!" sighed the barrister. "She
is dead, so all we can say is 'Rest her soul.'"
Lady Sanby nodded solemnly. "By the way, where have Vail and Badoura
gone to, and who is going to carry on the Pink Shop business?"
"I don't know where they have gone. Bolted to America, I understand.
At all events, Lanton can't find them, and I don't expect they will
turn up in England again seeing what a record they have left behind.
As to the Pink Shop, it is closed for ever. I told you so."
"One last question," said Lady Sanby. "Who dropped the label near the
door of the court to make the police think robbery was the cause of
the crime?"
"Lady Branwin, masquerading as Madame Coralie, and Eddy Vail managed
the whole wicked business. He also got the diamonds, or the most part
of them, and it is with that money that he has bolted to America with
Badoura. Do you wish to hear any more? For I am anxious to stop
talking about this business."
"Tell me," said Lady Sanby, quite forgetting that she had asked what
she had called a last question, "What of Perry Toat?"
"Oh, she has got the reward, as, really and truly, it was through her
that the truth came to light. Sir Joseph's lawyers paid her the money
last week, and she told me that she intends to retire from business
and marry her purser. Any more questions?"
Lady Sanby thought, and was about to ask another, when the door of the
boudoir opened and Colonel Ilse, looking years younger, appeared on
the threshold.
"Pardon me for entering unannounced, Lady Sanby," he said, in his most
polite manner, "but I have brought my motor to the street door."
"You couldn't have very well brought it to this door, Colonel," said
the old dame, drily. "So you are going with the young couple?"
"Not immediately," said the newcomer. "I must allow Ralph and Elsie to
resume their interrupted honeymoon. I shall join them when they reach
New York, after their trip through Australia and New Zealand. Perhaps
it is selfish of me, but I have been without my daughter for so long
that I want to have her to myself."
"What do you say to that, Ralph?" asked Lady Sanby, with twinkling
eyes.
"Oh, it is natural, and the Colonel and I get on splendidly together,"
said the young man, laughing. "When we return the Colonel is going to
live with us--or, rather, Audrey and I are going to live with the
Colonel."
"What is mine is yours," said Colonel Ilse, readily. "I have a country
house and plenty of money, to which Elsie is heiress, so when I go you
will have no troubles in a pecuniary sense. I really wish," added the
Colonel, somewhat anxiously, "that Miss Pearl had not induced Sir
Joseph to leave Audrey any money.
"Oh, that is only fair, considering how he behaved to her and to her
mother--I mean to Lady Branwin--when he was alive. And the more money
Ralph and Audrey have the sooner will he reach the Woolsack and get a
title."
"That is a long way off yet, grannie."
"Well, I don't know. Audrey is ambitious and will make you work, my
dear boy, after you have had this long holiday. But there is one point
to be settled straight away."
"What is that?" asked the Colonel and Ralph simultaneously, for the
old dame looked wonderfully serious.
"Is the girl to be called Audrey or Elsie?"
"I shall call her Elsie," said Ilse, promptly, "after her mother, my
dear wife, and I am sure Ralph will not object."
"No," said Ralph, after a pause, "I don't think I shall. In fact, when
I get used to the change of name I shall prefer it, as I should like
all memory of Audrey's connection with the Branwins to be forgotten."
"Well, call her Elsie," said Lady Sanby, "and the sole memory of a
very disagreeable time will be the two thousand a year."
"Which ought to be given to charity," said Ilse, abruptly.
"Give it to Miss Pearl," suggested Lady Sanby.
"No, no," said Ralph, with great common sense, "we shall keep it. Sir
Joseph owes Audrey something for the way in which he treated her."
Lady Sanby arose. "You said that before," she remarked. "My dear boy,
you are beginning to repeat yourself, so it is time you went."
Colonel Ilse looked at his watch. "If Elsie is ready we must go, if we
want to catch the Fenchurch Street train for Tilbury Docks."
As if in answer to his question Mrs. Shawe entered ready for the
journey, smiling and happy, although she looked rather thin. This was
not to be wondered at, after all she had gone through. Her father
embraced her tenderly, as he always did when she came into his
presence. It seemed as though he never could love her enough. Then
came fond farewells on the part of Lady Sanby, who insisted on
descending to see the party off.
"And I hope you will be happy, Elsie," she said, kissing her at the
street door.
"Do you call me Elsie, as father does?" asked Mrs. Shawe, smiling.
"Yes, and I shall call you Elsie also," said her husband, assisting
her into the motor-car. "From this moment we leave Audrey Branwin and
her miserable past behind. Now begins the happy existence of Elsie
Shawe."
"Thank Heaven," said the girl, piously, and her father and husband
echoed the wish as the motor-car hummed away towards the new life of
peace and pleasure which waited for them all.
"Thank Heaven also," said Lady Sanby, waving her hand. "That is the
last of the Pink Shop and all its misery."
THE END
COLSTONS LIMITED, PRINTERS, EDINBURGH