All of this was disclosed promptly, and justice took its course with the “Two men.” It would be pleasant to write further that the historic feud of the “women” who had been so keenly suspected was settled as satisfactorily. But not so. The two opposing forces seemed to take on new vim from the revelation of the truth about the murder, and each positively seemed angered that the other had not been found guilty. This may not have been the real truth at the bottom of the hearts of Miss Prall and Mrs Everett, but certain it is that, though they might not have desired conviction for one another, they greatly enjoyed suspicion. “At any rate,” said Miss Prall, “Adeline did set her cap for Sir Herbert, and I think that’s a crime in itself.” And Mrs Everett remarked, “Poor man! but he’s better off than if Letitia Prall had caught him! Which she tried her best to do!” The young lovers, relieved of all fears that their people or each other’s people were implicated in crime, were so emancipated from fear of any sort, that they dared to plan their marriage without the consent of their elders. Said Richard, “We’re going to be married, anyway, Aunt Letitia; you can understand that! And your own conduct you may shape as you choose.” Quoth Dorcas: “I’m going to marry Ricky, mother. If you consent all right,—if you don’t, I’ll elope.” And the Feudists, though incensed to the point of exasperation, had a certain secret feeling of satisfaction that the wedding would add fuel to the flames of their somewhat smoldering fires of wrath. “Bless ’em,” said Bates, as the honeymoon began, “they ought to be grateful to us for giving them something new to fight about.” “They are,” said Dorcas. THE END By CAROLYN WELLS In the Onyx Lobby The Man Who Fell Through the Earth The Room with the Tassels Faulkner’s Folly The Bride of a Moment Doris of Dobbs’ Ferry Such Nonsense! _An Anthology_