The immediate result of her death was the marriage of the widower to Mrs. Bezel, which took place, so to speak, when the latter was on her deathbed. She lingered out another two months, and died in the arms of her husband, at peace with all the world. Denis heartily forgave her, and the only bitter drop in her cup was the absence of her child. Yet when Captain Larcher suggested that Jenny should be told the truth, and brought to say good-by to her mother, Mrs. Bezel, with a self-denial for which I hardly gave her credit, refused to permit such a thing. She thought that Jenny would be happier if she was ignorant of the truth, and moreover, Mrs. Bezel shrank from letting her child know how she had lived during these many years. At all events Jenny never learned the truth, and Mrs. Bezel died without seeing her daughter. That she forgave Hilliston for having deprived her of the child is, I think, a proof of her goodness of heart, for there is no doubt that he acted selfishly and cruelly in doing so. But enough of Mrs. Bezel, her faults and virtues. She lies in Hampstead Cemetery under a plain stone of rose-colored granite, inscribed "To the memory of Mona Hilliston." So she had her wish at last, and died an honest woman. Captain Larcher returned with Kerry to the cottage in Nightingale Lane, as he could not make up his mind to resume his own name, or tear himself away from the bookworm life of twenty-five years. No one knew the truth save Claude, Jenny, and myself, for Hilliston being absent from England does not count. The vicar was also enlightened on the subject, and expressed much astonishment at the strange series of events which had culminated in the death and confession of Mrs. Hilliston. Unwilling to lose his old crony he heartily approved of Larcher's determination to resume his usual life, and so the matter was settled. Captain Larcher will remain Mr. Ferdinand Paynton to the end of his days, and will still be a mystery to the gossips of Thorston; how great a one they can never guess. But a notable change has taken place in his habits. He is no longer a recluse, a misanthrope. When I am at the Manor House he visits me there; he is a constant guest at the vicarage, and may be seen frequently fishing beside Kerry on the banks of the Lax. Following the example of his master, Denis Bantry also renounced his name, which he superstitiously regarded as one of ill-omen, and called himself Kerry for the rest of his life. If he was grieved for his unhappy sister, her life and her death, he finds consolation in the society of Mrs. Claude Larcher, who conducts herself toward him as a niece should do. But the relationship is not known beyond the walls of Rose Cottage, lest it might lead to inquiries, and Jenny is still known as the daughter of Mr. Paynton.