MATRIMONY AND HAPPINESS.
Dame Worthington was delighted—Sir Richard Warbeck was
delighted—every one in fact was delighted to hear it whispered that
Charley and Clara Haylark were engaged.
Mistress Haylark was indignant!
She would not listen to any such proposition, and moved to and fro
with an air of offended majesty!
Dame Worthington tried to console the proud woman, but she would
listen to no words of solace.
She had “made up her mind against the match,” and the only one living
fit to be Clara’s husband, she said, was that nice young man Mr.
Augustus Fumbleton.
Since her mother was extremely angry, Clara’s life was anything but
agreeable to her.
For morning, noon, and night, Madame was harping upon the rumoured
match, and spoke against it with inexhaustible eloquence.
Miss Clara, however, took but little notice of her mother’s ceaseless
prattle about the dignity, grandeur, and importance of “the
Haylark’s,” but quietly bore all with meekness and resignation, and
loved Charley more and more for all the railings hourly thrown out
against him.
As Sir Richard had been fully informed of the true state of things
by Dame Worthington, he sought an opportunity of speaking to Clara
alone.
The girl’s manner was so modest and genuine, and she confessed her
attachment for the young man with so much artlessness that old
Sir Richard Warbeck was strongly prepossessed in her favour, and
determined to do all in his power to reconcile Mistress Haylark to
the match.
What with presents, great gallantry of manner, and marked deference
to all her opinions on ordinary topics, he so far won upon the proud
lady that her resolution to maintain the honour of “the Haylarks”
melted away like ice before his eloquence and earnestness.
And after holding out for some time, “for the sake of form,” and in
maintenance of her much self-styled “firmness,” she consented to the
match, and began to bustle about in making suitable preparations for
it.
The intended marriage was kept as secret as possible, yet many female
acquaintances soon became aware of the fact by some unknown means.
And rumour had it that when Miss Josephine Smith, next door, heard
of the approaching event, through the tattling of servants over
the back-yard wall, she was seized with a sudden fit of hysterics,
and gave vent to her disappointment and chagrin, in all manner of
double-meaning phrases, and called Miss Clara everything that was
unkind.
Dame Worthington Was literally beside herself.
She knew not what to do from day to day.
The nearer the important event approached, the more affectionately
she behaved both to Clara and Charley.
She laughed and cried by turns, and said,
“She always knew it.”
Clara would kiss her, and Charley would joke her.
But, despite all her apparent perturbation and anxiety, she found
time to have frequent and long interviews with old Sir Richard, until
the young couple, seated lovingly side by side on the parlour sofa,
could not understand the nature of them.
Dame Worthington deeply regretted that she could not possibly find
accommodation for them in her house, but Sir Richard only smiled
benignly and said,
“Leave that matter to me, Harriet, my dear.”
The old dame, full of confidence in his wisdom, _did_ leave that
matter in his hands, fully assured that he would manage it far better
than any one else.
When the day approached, the hurry and bustle in the house increased
tenfold, and to such a degree, that the servant confessed to Smith’s
girl, across the back-yard wall, that “she was a’most worried to
death,” and wished the marriage was over.
On the eve of the wedding, when everything had been prepared, two
legal gentlemen unexpectedly arrived and after candles were lit in
Dame Worthington’s back parlour, they arranged their papers with much
apparent satisfaction.
Dame Worthington, the august Mistress Haylark, and the modest old Sir
Richard, took their seats.
Charley was summoned into their awful presence, Miss Clara following,
feeling as she afterwards confessed it, “all of a tremble.”
Old Sir Richard acted as chairman of the imposing committee, and
informed the young people that, as they were about to be united in
the holy bands of wedlock on the morrow, he wished to say a few words
to both.
Mistress Haylark had informed him that Clara was entitled to the sum
of five thousand pounds as her marriage portion, and, although this
was unknown to Charley, he begged to inform him that twenty thousand
pounds had been assigned to him as _his_ portion, left by some person
whom he should know at some future time.
In addition to this, kind Dame Worthington, in good-will and love
to both, and in consideration of her lasting admiration of their
mutual and disinterested attachment, presented them jointly with
two thousand pounds—which she had been hoarding up for many years
with this express intention—making a very handsome total, with which
modest sum they might commence life very comfortably.
In conclusion, old Sir Richard said,
“As _he_ himself had not contributed anything as yet to them,
he would give them one of his houses in town, which was already
furnished, and awaiting their marriage.”
The lawyers were there, he said, to legally ratify all these things,
and, as general speaker for those then present, he wished them joy
through many, many happy years.
At the conclusion of his remarks, which, it must be confessed,
greatly surprised and pleased the young people, Dame Worthington,
Mistress Haylark, and Clara were in tears, and seemed deeply affected.
Wine was produced, which tended to revive the two former ladies
considerably.
Mistress Haylark recommended Charley to use smelling salts to her
daughter.
But that young gentleman had his own specific for reviving her.
He conducted Clara from the back to the front parlour, where soon the
sounds of merry laughter and lively music told plainly that she was
fully recovered, and in the best of spirits.