New York. Gerald bade farewell to his companion, who pressed him, if ever he returned to England again, to pay him a visit, and they parted.

Gerald's first act, after fixing on a train at the railway station, was to send a wire to Depew.

Gerald Danvers.

And Tessie was there to meet him—Tessie, bright, bonnie, and expectant.

Their eyes spoke, but they just shook hands quietly and then drove away.

When they reached the country road, away from people, Gerald took hold of the reins, and pulled the horses up.

"What's that for?"

"Comfort, Tessie. You have just got to give me the biggest kisses you're capable of giving, and I don't like them in a jolting cart."

"Gerald!"

"That's it. Now another. I can do with another. Greedy, eh? Why, I haven't had a kiss all the time I have been away."

"I should hope not!"

"Little woman, I've come back so full of joy—and I may say of money—that I wonder my feelings aren't too much for me. I wonder I don't burst."

"Is it true, Gerald—all of it? Dad told us when he got your wire."

"What did he say?"

"Well, when he opened it and read it, he said, 'Hallelujah!'"

"That's the old man right enough."

"Then he told us that you had been over for nineteen thousand pounds, and that you said you were bringing them with you."

"That was so."

"And is it true, Gerald? True that you have nineteen thousand pounds about you now?"

"Feel right here, lassie."

"Your heart?"

"No, you can't feel that—you've had it for weeks past."

"Don't be foolish, Gerald."

"Feel there—my vest."

"Paper."

"That's it—wrapped up in more paper—there's nineteen of them, each for a thousand pounds."

"My!"

"Wants some swallowing, doesn't it? That's what I went across the pond for, to get that money for your dad."

"So he said."

"And before I went I bargained how I was to be paid for my work. I made him promise to give me—you."

"So he said."

"'Pears to me he has told you 'most all there is to tell."

"He had never said a word to mother or to me till your wire came. But he was full enough of talk then."

"Trust the old man for that. When he pops the cork out you can hear him."

"He says that if it had not been for you, he never would have seen a dollar of the money."

"That's so. Sounds egotistical, but I don't sorter reckon he would."

"He's mapped out what he's going to do with part of it."

"Hasn't lost any time!"

"He's not going to give you any of it."

"Don't want it. I've got his word that he'll give you to me, and that's enough for me to handle. I am counting on finding you a handful."

"I'm sure!"

"Old man's a man of his word; he won't go away from it. Our two beating hearts are going to be made one, Tessie, just as soon as a parson can tie us up."

"I don't see any reason for hurry!"

"Your sight's bad! We'll have to see to it."

"But you haven't asked what he's doing with the part of the money I referred to."

"Don't want to know. Don't care a mosquito's wing what he does with it. I plank those notes into his hand, and I say, 'Farmer, there's your part of the bargain,' then I step across to you and I say, 'and I think this is mine?' Farmer he agrees, and you and I——"

"But Gerald, darling——"

"That's right; you keep on calling me 'darling.' It sounds real sweet—just like molasses—coming from your lips."

"I wish you would be sensible for a minute."

"Couldn't, Tessie, if I tried. I've earned you, my girl, and you're mine, mine, mine!"

"Gerald, don't scream out like that!"

"Don't care. There's only the dicky birds to hear, and it won't frighten them. Catch up the reins, lassie, steer for the farm, let me unload my cargo, and have the right to claim you for first mate on our voyage through life."

"Gerald! I never saw you so silly."

"Ain't I? I own up. I'm just oozing stupidity at every pore. Gimme a kiss, or I'll stop the horse again."

"How rough you are, Gerald!"

"Ain't I? Gimme another. And another. Hallo! What's the mare stopped for? Gee up! Don't you know you've got a bride and bridegroom behind you? Don't you know the wedding march? Gee up, anyway."

"Gerald! Do be quiet. I want to tell you something."

"Fire away."

"About that money."

"Yes?"

"Dad's going to give me some."

"Well?"

"How much do you think?"

"Dunno—don't care."

"Nine thousand pounds."

"Get away! What are you giving us?"

"Fact. He's not going to give you a cent. He says he promised to give me to you, and he'll settle on me as a wedding portion the odd half."

"He's a thorough, regular, kiln dried brick!"

"Nine thousand pounds, Gerald!"

"Don't seem as if there could be so much money in the world, Tessie, does it? There's a capital for us to start a life partnership on!"

"As the capitalist partner, I shall keep you in order, my boy."

"You will—you will—I feel it looming."

"You may not be in such a hurry about our marriage after that threat."

"Oh, yes. I am in a greater hurry. I want to get over it."

"You wretch!"

"Ain't I? Biggest wretch on the American continent at this moment. Hullo, Tessie! I didn't see the crape round your sleeve. Who's dead?"

"Poor old Susan."

"No!"

"Yes; she died the second week you were away."

"Poor old soul! She nearly sent me to glory, but I bear her no grudge."

"Did you find out, Gerald, whether her husband was really murdered after all?"

"Not only that, Tessie, but I found who were his two murderers."

"Are they arrested?"

"They were arrested by the hand of death. No earthly judge and jury will try them. They have to toe the mark before the Judge of All."

"Dead?"

"Yes, and that is all we will say about it. We don't want to talk of death now, Tessie, but of life, the life which is before us, the life which you and I are going to travel in double harness. The life——"

"Take your arm away, Gerald. There's the farm, and mother and father are standing at the door."

"Hip, hip, hooray, farmer!"

"Come right in, lad, come right in. You, Jim, look after the mare."

"Mother-in-law, give me a kiss."

"I'm sure——"

"It's right, farmer, isn't it? She can kiss her future son-in-law in safety, can't she? I bring you home nineteen thousand pounds, and Tessie and I enter into partnership till death doth us part. Isn't that the bond?"

"Every word of it, sonny, every word. But that money, where is it?"

"Here, right here, farmer; on my beating, palpitating, manly bosom. Mother-in-law that is to be, give me your scissors. No, take 'em yourself. Undo the stitches. There. That's it. 'Open sesame' and out she rolls.

"Brown paper parcel tied with twine. Don't look worth nineteen thousand pounds, does it, farmer? Open the packet, and you will see a sight for sore eyes. Nineteen crisp, crackling, rustling Bank of England notes for a thousand pounds each!"

The trembling fingers of the farmer gripped the scissors, and he cut the twine. Then he tore off the brown paper and revealed—a piece of folded newspaper!

For a moment there was a silence, but in that moment a great change came over those present.

All the hilarity left Gerald. He stood looking at the packet with surely the whitest face that ever living man bore. The farmer's clouded to the pitch of blackness, and, bringing his hand down on the table with a force which made the crockery on the dresser ring again, he blurted out:

"What damned fool's game is this, anyhow?"