“Ah, sir,” replied the other, shaking his head, “a man who is only capable of assuming one disguise, isn’t good for much as a professional detective. Goggles and red whiskers will deceive one rogue, but not fifty. My eyes were my bane, sir, and ultimately cost me my place. While I could cover them up I was all right. It not only made a man of me, leaving me free to talk and freer to think, but disguised me so, my best friends couldn’t recognize me; but after awhile my goggles were too well known for me to be considered of much further use to the department, and I was obliged to send in my resignation. It is too bad, but I have no versatility, sir. I’m either the clumsy, stammering creature you have always known, or else I am the man Cummins you saw here a few minutes ago.”
“In either case an honest fellow,” answered Mr. Sylvester, and allowed the janitor to depart.
One more scene, and this in the house which Paula is henceforth to make a home for herself and its once melancholy owner. They have come back from their wedding-journey, and are standing in their old fashion, he at the foot, and she halfway up the stairs. Suddenly she turns and descends to his side.
“No, I will not wait,” said she. “Here, on this spot we both love so well, and in this the first hour of our return, I will unburden my mind of what I have to say. Edward, is there nothing of all the past that still rests upon you like a shadow? Not one little regret you could wish taken away?”
“No,” said he, enfolding her in his arms with a solemn smile. “The great gift which I hold is the fruit of that past, perhaps; I cannot wish it changed.”