The Mumbies still reside in New York. Ada is not married yet, and Mrs. Mumbie says she rejoices at it when she considers the dangers to which eligible girls are exposed by designing fortune-hunters, and, as a case in point, never fails to cite that of Edna Heath, that "poor unfortunate person," as Mrs. Mumbie calls her, when she expatiates to a friend on the fate of her husband's ward, and relates how her motherly affection was repaid by base ingratitude. "We did all we could," she never omits to add, "to warn her against the intrigues of that foreigner. We expostulated with her, we besought and implored her, but all in vain, and now see the result. I am told, (lowering her voice to a whisper, and with a slight shiver of horror as she bends to the ear of the confidant)--I am told that from the very day they were married he beat her, and on one occasion tried to poison her; she recovered from the effects of it, but her system is a wreck--a complete wreck, and she now drags out a miserable existence, and Mr. Mumbie has actually to pay her husband money to keep him away from her." * * * * * The master of the Archimedes Works is now mayor of Belton. The town having attained the dignity of incorporation some two years since, George was chosen its chief magistrate by his grateful and admiring fellow-citizens. He is in no way spoiled by the honor thrust upon him, but, if possible, is more independent than ever; in fact, it would probably, to put it mildly, now require the combined efforts of a drove of hogs on the _Mer de Glace_ to exemplify his extreme independence. He and his wife still occupy the small house on Mill Street; and the latter's chief delight is in the periodical visits she receives from her brother-in-law and adopted son, Captain Mark, and his wife, as he never fails to spend the furloughs accorded him in his old home and with his adopted mother. * * * * * Our little story is ended. What will probably strike the reader as the most improbable incident in it, will be very likely the one where truth has been the most faithfully followed. We allude to the cause of Mr. Heath's death. The traveller who speeds over one of the railways radiating from the city of New York, may be attracted, when a short distance out from the suburbs, by a fine stone villa surrounded by beautiful grounds and conservatories. It was evidently designed and built by some one of taste and wealth. Some years ago, to the astonishment of all, the owner perished by the act of his own hand. What led him to it was unknown, except to a few. It was remorse created by the discovery that an apparently trivial act of dishonesty on his part, long years gone, had caused the ruin of an innocent boy suspected of the offence. Moral law vindicated itself and became its own executioner. * * * * *