Many things can happen in a couple of years. To-day the old lord and the German doctor still chat and doze in the great picture galleries; and George's mother, beautiful still in life's sad evening, yet wonders whether she shall ever meet again in another world the dead husband who betrayed her, but whom she has forgiven long ago. As she lies on her sofa in the pretty room heavy with the scent of flowers, which has been hers for many a long year, her eye brightens, and the soft colour comes back momentarily to the pale cheek, as she hears the manly step of her dear son George; her own son, her very own son, her best beloved. He is dressed in deepest mourning; and he wears it for Lucius Haggard, the man who would have robbed him of his birthright. "Mother! dear mother!" he says, as he gently takes her hand. There is no more to tell. And now the prompter claps his hand upon his little bell, and down comes the green curtain upon the drama of human love, of human passion, selfishness and greed, upon the end of the family mystery with which it has been the author's privilege to try and interest the reader. THE END. PRINTED BY KELLY AND CO., GATE STREET, LINCOLN'S INN FIELDS, W.C.; AND MIDDLE MILL, KINGSTON-ON-THAMES. * * * * * Transcriber's note: Although most printer's errors have been retained, some changes have been made silently in spelling, punctuation, capitalization, and accents. Variations have been made consistent.