EPILOGUE.
About a year after Paul and Leonore were married, they received a visit
from Mr. and Mrs. Valentine Purcell, travelling in all the state that
money could buy and ingenuity devise.
Val was glorious: even prouder of his new wife's cleverness than he had
been of her predecessor's beauty. Marietta was superb: there never was
such a woman; managed everything--ran the entire show. He was allowed a
tailor's bill though,--and he looked down at a new suit with all his old
complacency.
He was perfectly easy, happy, and friendly. He had not an awkward
remembrance, nor an uncomfortable sensation.
It was splendid to be among his dear old friends again, and to find them
all so fit; Mere Hall was a delightful place, and he was awfully glad
that it was Sue's home too.
He did wish that he could get them all out to California. Sue ought
really to see California. If she would hop across the pond, he would
meet her himself in New York, and take her across the Rockies in his own
car. He and his wife always travelled in their own car.
As for Paul and Leo, of course _they_ were coming, but Sue--he had a sly
whisper for Leo's ear anent Sue. "What about Salt Lake City? That would
be Sue's chance: those Mormons are awful jossers for wives. I never let
Marietta within a hundred miles of 'em. You send old Sue out to me,
Leo."
Paul he speedily pronounced the best fellow in the world--taking him as
an entirely new personage. Paul's alterations in the house were a
triumph of architecture, and the steeple he was adding to the church a
masterpiece.
"Quite right to look after the church," said Val, seriously. "I always
take care that Marietta goes to church, and she's come rather to like
it. Now that she has been here, she says she's going to be more
religious, and I daresay I shall too. It's so awfully jolly to live as
you and Paul do, you know."
Another day he was alone with his old playmate, and raised his head
after a reverie.
"So you and Paul got each other after all, Leo?"
Leo, who was dressing a bowl with roses, dropped one, and looked
attentively at the speaker.
"Got each other after all, Val?"
"Oh, don't you come the innocent over me, Mrs. Stubbs--Mrs. Foster, I
mean. I know you and your tricks. You are just the same little wag you
always were--but I know you. And I know about you and Paul too."
"Know about us? What about us?"--quickly.
"Tell you if you like. I was in the woods that day. I was going home
from shooting and heard a row,--so then I crept along to see what was
up, and hid behind some big hollies; and there you were, you and Paul,
holding each other's hands, and shouting into each other's faces!"
"Did you--did you hear what we said, Val?"
"Lord, no--though I tried all I could. And what the dickens made you
speak so loud--you, especially--I could not imagine. If I hadn't had to
keep dark behind the beastly bushes, I could have heard every word.
Anyhow I heard enough--and saw enough--to know what you were up to."
He paused.
"And I was mad with you both, Leo. Because, you see, it wasn't
Queensberry--however it's all right now."
"And it was you who told Maud?"
"Why, of course," said Val, simply.
BY THE SAME AUTHOR
ONE OF OURSELVES.
THE ENLIGHTENMENT OF OLIVIA.
STAY-AT-HOMES.
MR. SMITH: A PART OF HIS LIFE.
THE BABY'S GRANDMOTHER.
COUSINS.
TROUBLESOME DAUGHTERS.
PAULINE.
DICK NETHERBY.
THE HISTORY OF A WEEK.
A STIFF-NECKED GENERATION.
CHARLOTTE.
THE INTRUDERS.
LEDDY MARGET.
IVA KILDARE: A MATRIMONIAL PROBLEM.
NAN, AND OTHER STORIES.
THE MISCHIEF OF MONICA.
THE ONE GOOD GUEST.
"PLOUGHED," AND OTHER STORIES.
THE MATCHMAKER.