"May God have mercy on her soul!" said Cyril removing his cap.
"Ah!" said Inglis, "if I had caught her, I wonder if the judge would have said as much."
"No," replied Bella, "she is dead, and she was innocent. God help her poor soul!" and everyone around echoed the wish.
Bella and Cyril did not go to London the next morning as they had arranged, but three days later. In the meanwhile search had been made amongst the ruins of the Manor-house for the body of Mrs. Vand. But nothing could be found. In that fierce furnace of flame she had been burnt to a cinder, and not even calcined bones could be gathered together. In a whirlwind of flame the unhappy woman had vanished, and her end affected Bella deeply. Indeed, Cyril feared lest the much-tried girl should fall ill, and on the third day he brought round the motor-car to Miss Ankers' cottage, to insist that she should come with him to London.
"But if we marry so soon it seems like a disrespect to Mrs. Vand," argued Bella, "and she has left me her money, remember."
"My dear, don't be morbid," advised Dora; "you will be ill if you stay. Get married, and go to Paris, and try to forget all these terrible things."
"What do you say, Pence?" asked Cyril, who in the meantime had carried out Bella's boxes.
Pence, looking lean and haggard after his recent illness, but with a much calmer light in his eyes, nodded. "I say, go, Miss Faith, and get married as soon as you can."
"You wouldn't have given that advice once," said Bella, with a faint smile, as Dora assisted her to adjust her cloak.
"Yes, I have." She held out her hand, "and the best thing I can wish you is the best wife in the world."
As if by chance, her eyes rested on Dora, who blushed, and then on Pence, who grew red. Afterwards, with half a smile and half a sigh, she got into the car beside Cyril. Dora hopped like a bird on to the step to kiss her.
Lister raised his cap, and the car went humming down the road on the way to peace and happiness.
"That's the end of her solitary life," said Pence, thankfully.
"On the Solitary Farm," rejoined Dora; "come and have some breakfast."
End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of The Solitary Farm, by Fergus Hume