THE WEDDING-DAY.
The sun shone bright and warm on that morning of Whit-Monday. Flowers
and leaves glistened in the morning dew; the birds sang; the bells of
the city rang festively and gaily; the myrtle-crown was ready woven
early, and the mother and Leonore were present at the toilet of the
bride. They expected that Jacobi would make his appearance in the
highest state of elegance, and hoped that his appearance would not dim
that of the bride. Louise's sisters made her appearance on this occasion
of more importance than she herself did. Gabriele dressed her hair--she
possessed an actual talent for this art--half-blown rose-buds were
placed in the myrtle wreath; and what with one, and what with another
little innocent art of the toilet, a most happy effect was produced.
Louise looked particularly well in her simple, tasteful, bridal
dress--for the greatest part of the work of her own skilful hands--and
the content, and the beautiful repose which diffused itself over her
countenance, spread a glorification over all.
"You look so pale to-day in your white dress, my little Eva," said
Leonore, as she helped her to dress--"you must have something pink on
your neck to brighten you up, else our bride will be anxious when she
sees you."
"As you will, Leonore! I can put this handkerchief on, that it may give
a little reflected colour to my cheek. I will not distress any one."
* * * * *
When the festally-arrayed family assembled for breakfast they presented
a beautiful appearance. The family-father, however, looked more gloomy
than gay; and as Jacobi entered they saw, with astonishment, that his
toilet was considerably negligent. He had been out; his hair was in
disorder, and he evidently was in an excited state of mind; but he was
handsome for all that. He kissed his bride tenderly on hand and lips,
and gave her a nosegay of beautiful wild-flowers, and several splendidly
bound books,--the sermons of Franzen and Wallin, which gift was very
valuable, and was received by "our sensible" and sermon-loving Louise
with the greatest pleasure.
After breakfast Jacobi hastened to arrange his toilet, and then they all
went to church. The weather was uncommonly beautiful, and crowds of
festally-dressed people thronged about, in part to hear the Provost, who
was to preach that day, but principally to see the bridal pair.
It was an agreeable surprise to the family when at the entrance of the
churchyard many young girls began to strew flowers before the bridal
couple the whole way to the church-door. The church also was decorated
with flowers and foliage.
When the Judge took the hand of his daughter in the church, she
perceived that his was cold, and that it trembled. She looked at him,
and read in his countenance the disquiet with which his soul laboured.
"My father," said she to him, "I feel so calm, so happy!"
"Then I am so too, my child," said he, pressing her hand; and after this
moment his demeanour was calm and decided as usual.
Jacobi, both before and after the ceremony, was excited in the highest
degree; he wept much. Louise, on the contrary, was externally quite
calm. She looked rather pale, but her eyes were bright and almost
joyous; an altogether unusual contrast in a bridal pair.
On their return from the church a little circumstance occurred which
gave pleasure to all, but more especially to the Judge. As they went
past the remains of the burnt-down house, they saw a great swarm of bees
suddenly mount up from the trees of the garden; it flew several times
round the market-place as if seeking for a habitation, and at last
turning back, struck directly down among the ruins of the former kitchen
fireplace; it seemed as if it had selected the hearth for its abiding
home. This was regarded as the happiest omen, and no sooner had the
Judge conducted his daughter home, than he returned in order to remove
his bees to a convenient resting-place; Gabriele following him with
Baron L----'s treatise on the management of bees in her hand.
When Louise was again locked in the arms of her mother--the mother and
Eva had remained at home--she was seized by a slight trembling fit which
lasted several hours, but which was unobserved by all excepting her
mother; and through the whole of the day she continued graver than
common. Jacobi, on the contrary, after his fit of weeping was over, and
he had embraced everybody, and kissed his bride on lips, hair, hand, and
foot, was seized with a real desire of dancing with the whole world. He
was so wildly joyous and happy, and at the same time so amiable, that he
imparted his state of mind to everybody else.
At half-past four in the afternoon they assembled themselves in the
S---- garden, where the time was passed in the most agreeable manner,
with music, walking about, entertainment, and eating of ices and fruit,
to which also the Almighty added the brightest heaven and the calmest
air. Later in the evening they danced in the great saloon; no lady could
sit still, and scarcely a gentleman stand; all must dance! We have
nothing more to say of the ball, but we must not pass over in silence
that which occurred afterwards. When the company wished to go across the
garden to the eating-room, they perceived that it had rained
considerably, and that it still dropped; this occasioned a great
commotion among the ladies, because all the wrapping shawls and cloaks
were on the other side; they had quite forgotten to bring them over in
the fine weather. But it was, according to popular belief in Sweden,
fortunate, and quite according to the order of things, that rain-drops
should fall on the crown of the bride; but at the same time it was also
against all sense of prudence and propriety that she should wet her
silken shoes. And then all the other ladies! They must have the wrapping
things fetched to this side!
"I will provide for it!" exclaimed Jacobi, and with these words seized
his astonished bride in his arms and carried her across the garden. What
he whispered in her ear during this journey we know not, but thus far we
can say, that this action set Jacobi very high in the favour of the
ladies.
* * * * *
The new-married pair spent several days after the wedding under the
paternal roof, and joyful days they were, only rather too much given up
to dissipation, for all friends and acquaintance would see and entertain
the two young people. Mrs. Gunilla gave them a dinner, in which she
communicated to them that she should, at the same time with them,
journey to Stockholm, where important affairs would oblige her to stay a
considerable time. However much it grieved Elise to lose so excellent
and almost motherly a friend, she rejoiced very much over what Louise
and Jacobi would win thereby. Louise and Mrs. Gunilla, it is true, had
not perfectly harmonised together, because each would instruct the
other; but Jacobi and she agreed all the better, and she had already
invited the young people to dine with her as often as they would in
Stockholm.
In the hour of parting she spoke thus to Elise and her husband with
tears in her eyes: "Who knows when we may meet again? The old woman is
in years--is not of much more use in the world--na, na! Our Lord will
care for her as he has hitherto done! And listen," continued she with an
arch, roguish air, "don't be uneasy on account of the young folks;--I
shall see that it all goes on right there. I invite myself as sponsor to
the first child. Perhaps we shall meet then! Yes, yes, I have a
presentiment that we shall see one another again in Stockholm! Nay! now
farewell, dear Elise! God bless you, my kind friends, and make all go
well with you! Think of the old woman sometimes! Adieu!"
* * * * *
After the trouble of the packing was over--we mean packing Louise's
things, of course--and the still sorrow of parting, quiet returned back
into the house, and was only agreeably interrupted by preparations for
the journey to the West. The Judge seemed at this time to be young
again, and an increased union of heart showed itself between him and his
wife. So wear away, sometimes, the most beautiful summer days, even
after the autumn has made advances into the year. From what cause is
this? God knows.
The invisible genius of our history leads us at this moment far from the
home of peace to a distant shore, in order to give us a glimpse
into--the subject of our next chapter.