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Six months later a happy young couple were in the drawing-room of a handsome house in Kensington. With them was Mrs. Pelham Odin, looking more stately and graceful than ever. She had established herself on the sofa in her regulation attitude, and Mavis was seated in a low chair beside her. Gerald stood with his back to the fire, smoking, and looked extremely happy. His happiness was reflected in the face of his young wife, and Mrs. Pelham Odin presided over the joint enjoyment like a fairy godmother.
"You are both looking splendid," she said, in her deep, clear voice, "and I am glad to see you both after your sojourn abroad. But do you think it was kind to leave England without seeing me?"
Mavis caught the two hands of the old actress. "No, it was not kind. I said that it was not kind. But Gerald----"
"Gerald said that it was necessary," said that young man coolly. "Dear Mrs. Pelham Odin look at the circumstances. There was the inquest on the bodies of those two poor women, who drowned themselves in the Peace Pool--in Mother Carey's Peace Pool."
"I thought that Mrs. Berch dragged her daughter to death."
"So she did," admitted Gerald quickly. "Mrs. Crosbie would have been arrested as an accomplice after the fact, and in any case would have sunk into poverty without her mother to help her. Mrs. Berch of course thought she would be hanged, although, seeing how she swore that the crime was accidental, extenuating circumstances might have been found. I suppose Mrs. Berch, who was frantically fond of her daughter, thought it best they should go together. Madge certainly would have lived, poor soul, in spite of all her misery, as she loved life. But Mrs. Berch pulled her down, and they are buried in Leegarth cemetery----"
"Beside Bellaria!" said Mavis, with a shiver. "How strange."
"The punishment of providence, my dear," said Mrs. Pelham Odin rebukingly. "The murderess was laid beside her victim. A wicked woman----"
"No," said Gerald, throwing up his hand. "Don't call her that."
"But she murdered----"
"I believe that the crime really was committed accidentally. And as she and poor Madge have paid for their sins let us leave them to God, Mrs. Pelham Odin. Who are we to judge, and, as was revealed at the inquest, those two women had suffered much misery and trouble."
"I wonder how they managed to deceive the tradesmen for so long," said the old actress musingly. "I am sure my tradesmen always make me pay every month. But look at the thousands they owed and----"
"It would all have been paid had Mrs. Crosbie married the Major."
"I daresay--with Mavis' six thousand a year."
"I have only three thousand," said Mrs. Haskins: "Charity has the rest."
Mrs. Pelham Odin kissed the girl's forehead. "You behaved in a noble way, my dear. I hear that Lady Euphemia has quite taken to Charity, now that she knows her father was a Devonshire Durham. And Tod has got back his ruined castle to play the laird. He says, however, that he is coming back from Scotland to work again at the law."
"And quite right he is," said Gerald, sitting down. "I don't believe in any man being lazy. Lady Euphemia wants Tod to play the laird on his wife's money, but Tod has too much respect to live on his wife."
"I knowyouhave," said Mavis, looking at him fondly. "You don't know how difficult it is to make him take money," she added, turning to the actress, "he will live on his own income, and works like a nigger."
"Not like Geary, if he is the nigger in question. My dear Mavis, this house is yours, and I----"
"You're going to say that you are a boarder. Stop!" And Mavis laid a pretty hand over his mouth. Gerald kissed it.
"You are both extremely silly," said Mrs. Pelham Odin, "share and share alike--money and love and sentiments and everything."
"Right," said Haskins playfully, "Mavis, darling, give me back that kiss."
"I came here," said Mrs. Pelham Odin, in her most dignified way, "to welcome you back from the Continent, so I must be attended to, and youdidleave England after the trial without seeing me."
Gerald rose, and became serious. "I did so to save my wife from an attack of brain fever," he said gravely. "Think of what that trial meant to a girl who had never faced such a throng of people."
"Oh, Gerald, there was the Belver Theatre."
"I am sure the people in the court were a better audience," said Mrs. Pelham Odin, using her fan, "and after all, the trial was a mere form. You were proved to be quite sane by those two nice doctors, and perfectly innocent, when the evidence was given as to Mrs. Berch's verbal confession. I read all about it in the papers. You were made quite a heroine, Mavis, and as I like heroines I expected you to come and tell me all about it. Instead of which," added the actress, returning to her grievance, "you went quietly to the Continent."
"To Switzerland," said Haskins, slipping his arm around Mavis' waist. "There we passed a happy time, and Mavis recovered from the shock of all these dreadful things. We never talk of them now."
"I am very sorry to," said Mrs. Pelham Odin obstinately, "but I must know what has become of everyone. Major Rebb, I understand, is in South America?"
"Yes. He could not face the court, and so he bolted. No one went after him, as of course he knew nothing about the murder, and Mavis did not prosecute him for his behavior to her."
"Geary--that terrible Uncle Tom's Cabin person?"
"He ran away also. I expect he is with Rebb now. I must say Rebb did not treat him well, trying to fix the guilt on him. Perhaps he's given Rebb the go-by on that account, and is now in Jamaica with another wife."
"Where is his English one?"
"In Barnstaple, with her coffee-colored children. Mavis allows her a small income."
"I am so sorry for her," said Mrs. Haskins apologetically. "I am sorry for anyone who is unhappily married."
"Well, you and Charity have married good men."
"But poor men," said Gerald, smiling.
Mrs. Pelham Odin shook her fan at him. "I could mention the Continent again," she said, smiling, "but as it was necessary that Mavis should have peace and quiet after all her trials, poor dear, I forgive the apparent rudeness. What are you going to do now?"
"We are going to repair the Pixy's House and live there."
Mrs. Pelham Odin gave a little scream. "Then don't ask me to come and see you. Two murders--for Mrs. Berch murdered her daughter as well as that poor Italian woman--and three corpses. Ugh! Why, the house will be haunted."
"Not at all," said Gerald tartly. "We can live there with a clear conscience, and the evil influence of the place will depart when good people dwell there."
"Meaning yourself, my dear boy. How modest!"
"I was rather thinking of Mavis, with her pure mind and----"
"There, there!" Mrs. Pelham Odin got rather restive, as she didn't like to hear any woman but herself complimented. "You are a six months' old husband----"
"I shall be a lover all my life." And Gerald kissed his wife.
"My Fairy Prince." And Mavis kissed Gerald.
Mrs. Pelham Odin cast her eyes up to the ceiling. "Quite like Romeo and Juliet, without the limelight," she said, in a fatigued tone. "Well, you must come to me before going to Devonshire. Charity Macandrew and her husband are coming. I want to give a dinner-party and introduce you two girls to all sorts of delightful people at a reception to follow. Everyone is delighted with the romantic story."
"I daresay they are," said Gerald crossly. "The papers have made far too much of the matter."
"I daresay they wouldn't have done so had it not happened to be the dull season," said Mrs. Pelham Odin consolingly. "Of course there have been romantic accounts, and portraits of the girls, and all that, but I have not seen what the newspapers call the sealed message."
"Do you mean the phonograph record which Mavis sent me?"
"Yes; only she didn't send it to you. She sent it to anyone who happened to fish it up."
"Tod did that, but the message was sent to me. Nothing happens by chance, Mrs. Pelham Odin, so----"
"Oh, dear me, here comes your occult stuff. Tod told me all about it. I don't like such deep subjects. The message----"
"We have it," said Mavis, rising and going to a side-table on which stood a Jekle & Co. phonograph. "Gerald and I often turn on the machine to hear the message which brought us together."
While she fitted the tube on to the machine Mrs. Pelham Odin yawned. "It was very clever of you to use a phonograph, since you couldn't read or write. I hope you are less ignorant now."
"I am getting on very quickly. Gerald teaches me every day."
"You conjugate the verb to love, I suppose. What's that?"
Gerald raised his finger. "The message which Mavis sent me."
"Sent anyone," muttered Mrs. Pelham Odin obstinately: but she listened.
"This to the wide world," babbled the machine in the sweetest and most melodious of voices. "This to the Fairy Prince, who will come and waken me from dreams. Come, dear Prince, to the Pixy's House, and watch that the jealous ogress, who guards me, does not see you. I cannot read, I cannot write: but I talk my message to you, dear Prince. To the stream I commit the message on this first day of April in this year five. May the river bear the message to you, dear Prince. Come to me! Come to me! Come to me! and waken your Princess to life with a kiss."
The machine stopped, for Gerald laid a hand on it. "That," he said solemnly, "is the Sealed Message."
"As I thought," said Mrs. Pelham Odin, in her lively tones, "it might have been sent to the Man in the Moon."
"Instead," said Mavis, kissing her husband, "to the dearest Fairy Prince on Earth."
"Which has none outside pantomimes," ended Mrs. Pelham Odin, determined to have the last word. She managed to do so, for the husband and wife were kissing one another.