Epilogue: Irene

Edith Phillimore sold Oakhill Farm to Peter Warren, who cried when he signed the papers that made it legally his. The widow took her daughter to London, where they were able to settle comfortably on the money she’d made. I received a few letters from her, but they stopped after several months. I heard nothing more of Eliza for many years, until the day that the papers reported her name as part of a group of women who were the first to cast feminine votes in a national election. Holmes, who was beside me when I read the story, declared that it surprised him not at all.

Edward and Julia Rayburn remained at their farm outside Fulworth. In the eyes of all in the village, Julia’s baby, a son named Steven, belonged fully to Edward, and her father’s reputation did much to counter the few stories that claimed otherwise. Tongues wagged about the exact date of the birth, as they always do in a village, and Edward bore the brunt of all suspicion, as if any shame belonged only to him. Still, I had never seen a man so happy with his lot in life. In time, with the help of a son whose laugh was like music, his wife began to smile again.