nger like a man in a
dream--a costly gold ring, studded with diamonds.
"It is my dead husband's ring; I gave it to my son to wear in memory of
him when he attained his eighteenth birthday," cried Madame Giche. "See
here"--and her trembling fingers touched a spring--"here are their
initials, my boy's and his father's." Ah! yes, there they were, there
was no denying it.
Denying it! sweet-eyed, eager old lady, she led them to the gallery, and
made them look at that all-convincing portrait of her son, over which
unconscious Inna had dreamt so often, longing for her mother, she
scarcely knew why, while it was her father's face spoke to her mystified
little heart. Ah! it was as clear as the light of day before Mr. Weston
and Mr. Mortimer left the Owl's Nest that morning. Mr. Weston was the
rightful master of Wyvern Court, and Inna its heiress to come
after--Madame Giche's great-granddaughter.
* * * * *
There was a right joyful Christmas keeping at Wyvern Court that year: it
was all joy, peace, and home-coming to Madame Giche; all a fairy dream
to Inna and the twins, to have Dick and Jenny as their guests, Dr.
Willett, Mr. Barlow, and Oscar coming up for the Twelfth Night.
"I say, who would have thought you'd prove to be the heiress of Wyvern
Court that day when I met you in the railway carriage?" said Dick
Gregory--he, Jenny, Inna, the twins, all out on the terrace, in the
moonlight, at the old court, listening to the bells on Christmas
evening.
"I didn't know it myself," returned Inna. "You see, papa's illness and
all was like the cloud with the silver lining."
"Your cloud was lined with gold, Miss Giche," remarked Dick, "and no
mistake!"
"It is _our_ cloud as well--mine and Olive's--isn't it, Inna dear?"
spoke Sybil, clinging to the new little heiress's hand. "We are to be
co-heiresses, all three, and grand-auntie knows how."
"Oh, ay! share and share, like dividing one apple between the three of
you; but Inna is _the_ heiress," said Dick.
THE END
Printed by Cassell & Company, Limited, La Belle Sauvage, London, E.C.
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