"It's more than I have done," said Owain languidly. "Good-bye, Bottles. Go home and tell your mother of my intentions. Next week I'll fulfill my promise, as soon as I can see my solicitors and settle matters."
"And, Simon," said Mrs. Perage graciously, "you can go to the kitchen and have your dinner. Here's a pound. Take Peter with you to town and to see your mother."
"Thank you, mum; thank you, sir; thank everybody." And Bottles disappeared with a happy grin, which made every one smile.
"Here comes Madame Alpenny and the Brackens," announced Vane, who acted as a master of the ceremonies.
"I don't like that old woman to come under my roof," said Mrs. Perage, with a frown. "She's a plotter and a schemer. But----"
"Oh, she's only one of the fragments which have to be swept up," said Gwen in a lively tone. "I don't like her either; but I am so much obliged to Zara that I am quite willing Owain should help the old lady."
"Old lady, indeed," grumbled Mrs. Perage. "Old scamp, I call her. You can deal with her yourselves. I'm going." And as the newcomers entered the room, she went out swiftly through the conservatory.
Zara looked pale, her husband confused, and both advanced with rather a shame-stricken air. Madame Alpenny, on the contrary, rushed forward and took Owain's hand with effusion, beaming all over her harsh swart face. Considering how she had behaved when they last met, the young man was astonished by this friendly greeting. He scarcely knew what to say; but it appeared there was no need for him to say anything. Madame Alpenny did all the talking, so it was just as well that Mrs. Perage had left the room. Had that Amazonian dame remained, there assuredly would have been trouble.
"Ah, but I am delighted to see you looking so magnificent after your illness, dear Monsieur!" cried Madame, clasping Owain's hand fondly within her own. "You terrified me greatly, as I thought you would perish. Ah, but it is good of the Heavens to preserve you to us."
The young man withdrew his hand as soon as he recovered from his astonishment, and spoke very coldly. "You have changed your mind since our last meeting!"
Madame Alpenny threw up her fat hands. "Ah, but what would you, my dear sir? I was angered at losing so beautiful a son-in-law. I said much that I have wept for saying. And to you also, in the churchyard, Mademoiselle," she added, turning to Gwen, who was frigid, "I spoke most wickedly. Ach! my dear young lady, you must forgive me for my open nature. We are all now friends here, I hope."
She beamed all round the room, but there were no answering smiles. Zara laid her hand on her mother's arm and drew her back. "I must ask your pardon, Mr. Hench, for all the trouble which has been brought to you," she said seriously.
"It was not your fault, Mrs. Bracken, nor that of your husband," said Owain very quickly. "I have nothing but friendship and admiration for you both, seeing the way in which you made the crooked straight between us," and he glanced at Gwen fondly.
"Ah, what a good heart!" murmured the Hungarian lady, with her handkerchief to her eyes. "A heart of gold!"
"Shut up!" growled Bracken to his mother-in-law, and twitched the old head mantle which she still wore over the famous orange-spotted dress.
"I will not shut up, you rude man!" cried Madame Alpenny volubly. "Ah, to think of what I have suffered at the hands of Mistare Spruce, now happily deceased. He would have had me hanged!"
"Did he accuse you of committing the murder?" asked Vane sharply.
"But no. He was all sweetness and smiles. Yet, if Monsieur Hench had married Zara, then this Mistare Spruce would have accused me. He laid his plans to make me guilty. It was he, I find, who wrote the letter asking me to go to Hampstead. He wished me to be unable to prove where I was. If he had lived I should have put him in gaol," ended Madame, with a frown.
"You nearly put Mr. Evans in gaol!" said Gwen icily.
"Mistare Evans. Ah, yes--the real name of Monsieur Hench. No, I would not have put him in gaol, Mademoiselle. My talk was what you call--eh, yes--bluff. I might have been his beloved mother had I accepted his father's hand. Never would I have harmed him."
"Oh, I think you would when you had me in your power, Madame," said Owain dryly. "Remember what you talked about in the churchyard."
"Bluff--all bluff, Monsieur."
"It would have been better had you acted fairly with me and told the truth at our first conversation. Then I should have known that I was Madoc Evans' heir and all this trouble would have been avoided. You also would have been the richer for such honesty, Madame."
"Ah, but you will not turn from me now," said Madame in a wheedling tone. "See, Monsieur Hench, it is through me you have money and marry this sweet angel. I am poor; I am deserving. So give me----"
"Mr. Hench will give you nothing, mother," said Zara in a cold tone of displeasure. "I came down here to say good-bye to him and to take you out of his life. Mr. Hench,"--she faced round to Owain,--"my husband and I are going to America, where I have obtained a good engagement. My mother goes back to Hungary, and I will send her money to support her. Therefore it will not be necessary for you to give me that thousand pounds."
"I wish to give it to you as a mark of my esteem," insisted Hench, and Gwen endorsed this speech.
"I do not wish my wife to take it," said Bracken, advancing to hold out his hand. "Good-bye, Mr. Evans, we have been here long enough. We shall always remember your kindness with gratitude."
Owain shook the extended hand. "But I wish you would take the money, Bracken."
"Ah, but do!" cried Madame Alpenny, feverishly greedy. "I can double it at cards. I am so lucky, I want to----"
"Come away, mother," interrupted Zara, dragging her towards the door. "Mr. Hench will not give you a single penny!"
"Ingrate!" shouted Madame, turning at the door, out of which she was going, held firmly by Zara and Bracken. "After all I have done. Ach! the wickedness of the evil one. I gave him thousands, and he--he, the beast--the-----" Here she was dragged into the hall by her scandalized daughter, and those in the drawing-room heard her voice loudly lamenting all the way down the avenue. In this manner was the Hungarian lady rewarded for her scheming. She did not benefit in the least.
"I'm glad she's gone," said Gwen, drawing a deep breath. "I don't like her."
"Nor do I," said Owain, pulling the girl down beside him. "She nearly got me into the dock. But I am bound to say that she ran an equal risk from poor Spruce."
"Poor Spruce, indeed!" cried Vane, turning from the window where he was watching the protesting Madame Alpenny being dragged down the avenue. "Why say good of a man who did nothing but evil?"
"Don't be hard on him, Jim. After all, he has paid the penalty of his crime by suffering a terrible death."
"You're a good chap, Owain, so I won't say another word. But never mention his name to me again if you I can help."
"We'll never mention anything about the past if we can help," said Gwen, as Owain slipped his arm round her. "Now all these people have gone let us try and forget them."
"Oh, you'll forget right enough," said Vane, smiling. "When you marry Owain you will think of nothing but him."
"He saved my life!" cried the future Mrs. Evans defiantly.
"In return you have saved mine," murmured Owain. "Had you not nursed me back to life and love, where should I have been now? But the clouds have disappeared, my dear, and now the sunshine of life is ours. In three weeks we will get married quietly and go abroad for a year. Afterwards we can return to take up our position here."
"And you will go back to your old home, Miss Evans," said Vane, laughing. "Not much change about that."
"A great deal of change!" cried Gwen hotly. "While I lived there with my poor father, the Grange was a house of hate; now it will be a mansion of love."
"Quite so; you will be so happy that you won't want to see any one."
"Always you, Jim," said Owain, holding out his hand, which the barrister took.
"And me also, I hope," said Mrs. Perage, entering unexpectedly from the conservatory. "Hum! A touching tableau. The sweetheart, the angel of the sweetheart, and the true-hearted friend. Fudge!"
"You don't mean that word!" cried Gwen.
"Perhaps I don't." Mrs. Perage rubbed her nose. "For to tell you the truth, I don't know what the word means. I got it out of 'The Vicar of Wakefield,' and it seemed useful. I should like to have used it to that old woman who is screaming viciously all the way down the avenue. Really, young man, you have some very queer friends."
"Well, I lived in Queer Street for a long time, you know!" said Owain, smiling.
"You'll never live there again," whispered Gwen.
"Lucky Owain!" mocked Vane. "No more hunger and thirst, hard beds and unpaid bills. You will henceforth lie in the lap of luxury."
"Hum!" said Mrs. Perage gruffly. "There is a good luncheon: a much better one than you ever tasted in Queer Street, I'll be bound. There's the gong."
Owain rose quickly and took Gwen's arm. "And here begins the new life!" he said.
THE END
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