on the whole it was a most marvellous recovery. the nurse had been a little severe on mary; she had had no business to fly to the bedroom of the patient in that way. but ralph was most emphatically of the opinion that mary's action had hastened his convalescence. at the end of the week he was in the drawing-room with the windows open, so that he could catch the sweet fragrance of the summer air, and the doctor was jokingly congratulating him on the thickness of his skull. the london police had been very busy during the past week, but as yet no success had rewarded their efforts. ralph had said nothing; it was deemed far wiser not to allude to the attack at present, and old slight had remained silent in the presence of the detectives. their superior air irritated him and, therefore, he kept his knowledge to himself.
as to the rest, george dashwood was in paris. he had been sent there on an errand by lady dashwood, who wanted him out of the way. the chatelaine of the dower house was afraid lest george dashwood should speak out and spoil everything. and mary had more or less made her peace with her father, who had forgiven her.
"i've no doubt you thought that you were acting for the best," he said. "you are not quite old enough fully to appreciate what is due to the family pride. still, as nobody knows that you have so far forgotten yourself as to try to earn your own living, it does not much matter. i suppose you have done nothing to be ashamed of."
mary replied with becoming meekness that she hoped so. only a little time before she would have flung back the suggestion with passionate scorn. but lately she had become more cheerful and gayer in her disposition. still, the situation was not without its humorous side. it was not for mary to point out to her father what a humiliating position he had occupied when he had accepted the impostor's offer of a home at the hall. but as yet mary knew nothing of the impostor's downfall, or the real story of the outrage on ralph. all that was to come. so george dashwood departed on his errand to paris, and the mistress of the dower house breathed more freely.
the nurse had gone now; her services were no longer required. and tomorrow the doctor had told ralph that he could walk across the park if he liked. the next day was a wet one, however, so there was no opportunity. the third day broke gloriously fine, and ralph came down to breakfast, a little pale and shaky, but almost himself again. lady dashwood was reading the paper with a grave face. it was not until the meal was over that she drew ralph aside.
"i am going to speak freely to you," she said. "it is a strange thing that you have never asked if we had found anything out about your accident."
"i was waiting for you to speak," ralph said. "as for myself, i remember nothing. the night i was dining at the hall, mayfield gave me a cigar. almost as soon as i reached the open air, i became so drowsy that i could have fallen down and gone to sleep. a sudden pain darted through my head, and i recollected no more till i came to myself here, and found that mary was on her knees by the side of my bed. did i dream that, or did mary come then and say that she loved me? it was only for a few minutes that i was conscious."
"i have no doubt that that was real enough," lady dashwood smiled tenderly. "mary did rush up to your room, and a fine scolding she got from the nurse for it. but you can settle all that with our dear girl later. let us get one thing over at a time. you have not the slightest idea who made that attack on you?"
ralph confessed that such was the case, and lady dashwood proceeded to enlighten him. she told ralph everything that she had gleaned for herself, and that slight had acquainted her with. ralph's face was very grave and stern as he listened to the story.
"a very pretty plot," he said. "i can see it all quite clearly now. it was invented by mayfield. it never occurred to me till now that mayfield guessed who i was. you see he had seen my father. very lately mayfield had been in dire need of money. i had seen to that. he could guess why i stood aside and let it appear as if speed was the heir of the property; he could see that i did this to save mary, knowing that i could stop it later and claim my own. but this gave mayfield a chance to blackmail speed whilst he had a grip on the family exchequer. after that was done, speed could go hang, as far as mayfield was concerned. the whole thing was spoiled by my chance meeting with speed in his mother's house. she could tell him who i really was. hence the plot that nearly killed me. perhaps i have been a little bit too clever. if ever i come across my friend vincent speed again----"
"you will never do that," lady dashwood said. "the man is dead. he perished in yesterday's storm, crossing from jersey to granville in a rickety boat. there is a paragraph here in the papers. the man seems to have assumed his own name again, for his linen was marked vincent speed. and old slight told me that he meant to escape in that way. on the whole, my dear ralph, it will be just as well to save scandal as much as possible. of course, the neighbours will naturally want to know a great deal, but we need not talk too much."
"i quite agree with that, though i fancy that the family pride will get short shrift from me," ralph laughed. "you had better put it down to the fact that i had a democratic mother. but have you heard anything of mayfield?"
"he has gone, ralph, nobody knows where. there was a good deal about him in yesterday's papers--the disappearance of a city man, and strange stories of his swindled clients. i understand that a warrant on some charge or another has been obtained for his arrest. but he will never be found, ralph; he is too cunning for that. on the whole, it will be better for you to tell the simple truth, that you had not the slightest idea who caused your accident."
"well, as a matter of fact, i haven't," ralph said. "but, of course, mary must know all these things. i can only rejoice in the misfortune that has brought us together, and opened her eyes to the truth that love is best of all things. i suppose she has no idea----"
"none whatever," lady dashwood said eagerly. "slight will say nothing, and george dashwood has been got out of the way on purpose. but is it not time, my dear boy, that mary should be told the whole story? you need not fear any longer that her heart is given to ralph darnley, and that sir ralph dashwood is quite a secondary consideration."
ralph laughed with a tender inflection in his voice.
"i was going to do it after lunch," he said. "and positively i feel quite nervous about it. you are very anxious to see us married, grandmother?"
"it will be the crowning happiness of a miserable life," lady dashwood said. "i have already told you the story of my past, of the sin that cost one life and wrecked the happiness of two others. for that sin i have fully atoned; i fancy that my punishment is ended, and that is the one thing that you are never to tell our dear mary."
ralph promised solemnly. after a pause lady dashwood proceeded:
"now you know everything," she said. "i want to see my boy soon back in his proper place; i want to see the best ruler that dashwood ever had. we have been too proud and cold in the past, and have thought more of our dignity than of the comfort and happiness of those dependent upon us. but i see that that is not going to be your way, and i rejoice in the knowledge. and in future i know that it is not going to be mary's way, either. and if the evening of my life is going to be finished in the sunshine, i shall not regret the past. all i want to do now is to see a child of yours and mary's on my lap, and . . . that's all, ralph."
ralph rose and kissed the speaker tenderly. he quite understood her feelings.
"god grant that it may be as you say," he murmured. "but i feel so anxious. and till now i have been quite strong in the knowledge that i should win mary in the long run. she could never have married mayfield; i had only to declare myself, and that was finished. but i saw the way to open the eyes of my dear one, and i did it. still, i wish it was all over, the confession made, and my forgiveness freely offered. by tea time i shall know."
it was a quiet but very happy little party that gathered presently at the luncheon table. mary was soft and subdued; she had not forgotten the night of her return, and the way in which she had knelt by ralph's bedside, and told him of her love. from that day the subject had not been alluded to between them, for mary had rather avoided ralph save in the presence of others. but when she met his glance from time to time, she knew that all was well, and that the sacrifice she had made was the crowning blessing of her life.
"how sweet those roses are!" she said, as she plunged her heated face into a bowl of blossoms. "i used to smell those roses all the time i was in london. really, i pretended to be very independent and all that kind of thing, but i'm afraid i should never have been able to stand the life. i should have run down here, and pretended that i was not well enough to return."
"not you," grace laughed. "now, with me the case is different. it is essential to good art that we should have congenial surroundings. do you know that i have done three solid hours' work today without feeling the least fatigue! if i had attempted such a thing in london, i should have been knocked up for a week."
"a few days have worked wonders in you," ralph said. "in honour of the occasion, we will go and have tea at the hall. mary and myself will go and make all the arrangements, and you can follow with lady dashwood. what do you say, mary?"
"we are trespassers," the girl said, with a laugh and a blush. "still, the owner is away, and i am quite sure that slight will give us a warm welcome."
