And after all perhaps 'tis best
To make no mention of the past;
The clouds have vanished and to all
The peaceful days have come at last.
Five years have passed away since that death in the lonely prison cell, but from that day, Sam Lee disappeared as completely from the gaze of man as if he, too, had journeyed to the world from whence there is no returning.
Search was unavailing and inquiry and investigation alike, fruitless.
The autopsy made upon the dead man's body revealed nothing other than asphyxiation by an unknown drug, but whether administered by his own or other hands, was never ascertained.
Men reasoned, argued and theorized, and at last lost interest.
For Elizabeth's sake, Sir Frederic saw that the body was decently interred and then made haste to return once more to Portland Place, as it was Stella's ardent wish that her child should be born in the home so dear to her own youthful associations.
Little Archie is now nearly five years old and baby Millie just turned one, but they have thus early demonstrated their importance in the Atherton family, and no one dreams for a moment of denying their claims to attention and worship.
Mrs. Sinclair is radiantly happy.
Little Archie is her husband's namesake, and on him she lavishes so much of her tender love that Stella often wonders if baby Millie will not some day look with jealous eyes upon her grandma's preference.
The children are frequent visitors at the house in G—St., where Elsa watches carefully over their frolics with the conscious dignity of her mature years.
Elizabeth thought at first that she could not[Pg 231] endure to live again beneath the walls that had been the scenes of her perilous infatuation, but of late a peaceful smile lights up her lovely features and the old house has been turned completely upside down with her tasteful renovations.
Perhaps little Elsa explains matters somewhat when she grasps Mr. Morris' extended hand and leading him gaily to her playmates, says confidentially, "This is my new papa, Archie, mamma says so!" and "Mamma," who has entered at that moment, comes blushingly forward to be held for a moment in her young husband's arms, while the first deep feeling of perfect love thrills her long sorrowing heart with joy unspeakable.
As for Sir Frederic, he has watched carefully for any signs of knowledge on the part of Lady Van Tyne regarding the suspicions which Dr. Seward so conscientiously revealed to him, but the years go by and there is no word.
The Lady Van Tyne sits calmly on her pedestal of virtue, and although its foundations are of gold, still there is enough of that precious metal to secure her position for many years to come, and positive that no word of hers will ever destroy her social prominence, Sir Frederic locks the guilty secret in his heart and turning to the sweet faced women whom he loves, breathes silently a solemn vow of "Death to the Inquisitive."
THE END