Prior, however, to these events, and prior also to the return from abroad of the Arden family, Miss Fips, all her flyers and streamers of black crape, nay, her very parasol black, reappeared upon the stage, calling herself Mrs. Arden, and declaring that she had been privately married to the late Geoffery Arden; of which alleged fact, however, she failed to produce any satisfactory proof, save and except a son and heir, on whose behalf she claimed whatever property was left by the deceased. This impudent and dishonest attempt of Miss Fips's not only failed in its object, but produced an effect as little expected as desired, either by herself or her father; eventually proving the cause of bringing to light circumstances and letters, sufficient to induce a strict examination into the nature of the services rendered by Mr. Fips to Geoffery Arden. While in the course of the investigation thus brought about, it was clearly proved, that the said Mr. Fips had been one of the parties engaged in a foul and nefarious conspiracy against the life and property of Sir Alfred Arden. When Fips saw how the matter was likely to end, he, by way of precaution against the heavy fine which constitutes a part of the punishment for conspiracy, made over, by a fraudulent, antedated settlement, his whole property to his daughter, with a secret understanding, that she was not to avail herself of the gift during his life. On the expiration of his period of imprisonment, however, he found that Miss Fips had possessed herself of every shilling, married, and gone abroad. He was now to make his election between begging and going on the parish; for since his late misfortunes, the infirmities of age--a broken constitution, failing sight, and a trembling hand--had increased so rapidly upon him, that, to say nothing of want of character, he could not get employment even as a copying-clerk in any office. Of the two remaining alternatives, then, he was less ashamed to beg among strangers than to claim his right of parish at Arden, where he well knew the deserved abhorrence in which he was held. Thither, however, in the character of a vagrant, he was finally passed, without his own consent; and in the workhouse of Arden parish he died by his own hand, having been driven at last to cut his throat, in a paroxysm of despair and ineffectual rage, brought on by the ceaseless revilings, reproaches, and scoffings of his companions; many of whom, but too justly, laid their ruin at the door of his dishonesty and ruthless oppression. Caroline and Alfred, after the cloudy morning of their life cleared up, enjoyed sunshine to its close. But this we need have scarcely mentioned; for all the ladies will say, "Who could avoid being happy with Alfred?" while the gentlemen will, no doubt, be disposed to pay a similar compliment to Caroline.