A WEDDING AND OTHER INCIDENTS
Stuart and Palma were both very glad and very grateful that Mrs. Walling
had undertaken all the responsibilities of their cousin’s wedding. They
knew that her means were ample, and that Walling & Walling were
advancing, and would continue to advance, any sum that Randolph or
Judith might require for their personal preparations. They knew also
that Mrs. Walling was sincerely delighted with the idea of the wedding
celebration at her own house; whereas, had it been settled to come off
at the Stuarts’ apartments, Stuart, from impecuniosity, and Palma, from
inexperience, would have been very much embarrassed.
Mrs. Walling was in her element selecting a proper trousseau and outfit
for Judy.
She came in her carriage every morning to take Palma out shopping with
her and Judy. Mrs. Moseley could not accompany the party; not because
she was a little way out of town, for the cars ran all the time and
would have brought her in in fifteen minutes, but because she was “up to
her eyes in business” settling her large family in their new home.
So Mrs. Walling, Palma, and Judy went out together every day, until all
the shopping was completed.
Judy’s outfit was a very complete but not a very costly one.
“You know, dear,” Mrs. Walling explained to Palma, “that our little
friend is not going at all into society for two or three years to come.
The young pair will live very quietly somewhere, to advance their
education, before they show themselves to their neighbors at Haymore;
and so she will really need little more than a schoolgirl’s ‘kist.’ Her
wedding dress, of course, must be a pretty one, and her traveling dress
must be very nice, but the others plain and simple and inexpensive.”
Palma agreed to the prudence of all this. And Judy said never a word.
She left her affairs entirely in the hands of her two friends.
While the lady shopped for Judy she shopped for herself as well. But,
after a day or two, she could not but notice that Palma bought nothing;
that she let all the tempting goods, so pretty and so cheap, pass under
her admiring eyes unpurchased.
“What is the matter with the young one?” inquired Augusta of herself.
“Doesn’t she care for dress at all?” Then she remembered that she had
never seen Mrs. Stuart in but two dresses, and very inexpensive ones at
that, namely, an India muslin, sometimes, in her evenings at home, and a
fine crimson cashmere for visiting. And then it occurred to Augusta
Walling that the Stuarts might be in straitened circumstances; and her
heart was touched with sympathy for the beautiful young woman who saw so
many attractive articles of adornment pass under her eyes or be bought
by others without being able to buy one of them. And she wondered how
she might make Palma a pretty present without giving offense.
“I hate the rôle of a pretended benefactress. I should shrink from such
an imputation. Lovely little creature! how elegant she would look in a
ruby velvet, with duchess lace! And she shall have it! Yes, that she
shall! And I will take the risk of being snubbed and stood in a corner
for my impertinence.”
The outcome of the lady’s resolution was this: After she had set down
Palma at the Stuarts’ apartments, and taken Judy home to the Walling
house, she set out on a second shopping expedition.
The same night, while Stuart was taking his usual walk up and down the
pavement before the house, and Palma sat in her little room stitching
fresh edges on frayed collars and cuffs, one of Lovelace & Silkman’s
young ladies arrived at the apartment home, followed by a boy with a
large bandbox, and asked for Mrs. Cleve Stuart. She was brought up in
the elevator and ushered into the presence of Palma, who arose to
receive the unexpected visitor, staring a little. The stranger merely
nodded to the lady, then, without any preface, she took the bandbox from
the boy, set it on a chair, untied, unwrapped and opened it, and took
from it a glorious suit of dark, bright blue damassé velvet, trimmed
with satin, and spread it over a chair, saying:
“If it is convenient, I would like to have you try it on now, ma’am, so
that I may make any alterations that may be necessary before I leave.”
“But I——” began the wondering Palma, when she was suddenly interrupted
by the dressmaker exclaiming:
“Oh! I beg your pardon! I forgot!” And she handed a note addressed to
Mrs. Cleve Stuart.
Palma took it in perplexity, opened it, and read:
“Beauty to the beautiful! To Palma Stuart, with the true love of
Augusta Walling.”
Palma was touched, melted, delighted all at once. She had never had, nor
ever expected to have, so superb a dress. She was but a child in some
things. She could not speak for surprise, gratitude and embarrassment.
But the matter-of-fact young woman from the suit department of Lovelace
& Silkman’s went on to say:
“We were very sorry that we had not a ruby velvet made up, but the lady
who gave us your order said that there would be no time to make up one,
and she selected this; and I really think, madam, that this shade of
mazarine blue will be quite as becoming to your brunette style as garnet
or ruby.”
“It is beautiful! It could not be more beautiful!” exclaimed Palma.
“Will you try it on now?”
Palma arose and the dressmaker helped to relieve her of her cashmere
dress and induct her into the velvet.
But slight alteration was necessary—the front breadth shortened, the
sleeves shortened, the side seams of the waist taken in—that was all.
The young dressmaker laid off her hat and her wraps, and took from her
little hand-bag needle, sewing silk, scissors and thimble, and sat down
to work.
Then Palma, having nothing else to occupy herself with while the
dressmaker sat there, began idly to rummage among the silver tissue
paper in the bottom of the big bandbox, and there she found another
box—a smaller one—which she took out to examine. It had her name on it.
She opened the box and found a fichu and pocket handkerchief of duchess
lace, a pair of the finest white kid gloves, a lovely fan, and a little
turban of velvet and satin to match her dress.
The dressmaker soon finished her task, folded the dress, returned it to
the box, and took her leave.
Then Palma started up, like the delighted child that she was, opened the
box again, took out the elegant dress, spread it all over the sofa to
display its beauties to the best advantage, and called in Mrs. Pole to
admire it; and when that good woman had risen to as much enthusiasm as
she was capable of—for a suit—and returned to her own dominions, Palma
still left it there, that Stuart might be regaled with the vision when
he should come in.
When Cleve did come in and was shown the present and the note that came
with it he looked rather grave; he did not like presents, would much
rather that his pretty little wife had continued to wear her shabby red
cashmere, rather than be indebted to any one for a sapphire velvet; but
it was too late to prevent her acceptance of it now, so he quickly
cleared his brow and admired the dress to her heart’s content.
On that same evening Ran was, as usual, spending the hour with Mrs.
Walling and Judy. There was no other company. Ran had a secret source of
distress, and it was this—his humble, faithful friends down at Markiss’
Hotel, in the lower part of the city. They certainly did not belong to
the Walling “set.” Conventionally, they were a long, long way below that
set; yet Ran wanted them to be present both at his wedding and at the
wedding breakfast, and that wedding was to be celebrated at one of the
most “fashionable” churches in the city; and that wedding breakfast was
to be given at Mrs. Walling’s. How could Ran ask that very fine lady to
invite his humble friends? And, on the other hand, how could he slight
those faithful friends? Mike, his brother-in-law expectant, must come,
of course; that was to be taken for granted, and then Longman, who had
rescued him on the night when he was shot, and who had actually saved
his life—Longman ought certainly to come. And, finally, poor old Andrew
Quin ought not to be left—the only one—“out in the cold.”
While Ran was turning these matters over in his mind he was not noticing
what Mrs. Walling was doing. That good lady sat at a small writing-desk
busy with note paper and envelopes. Presently she said:
“Randolph, dear, give me the address of those good friends of yours.”
“Friends, madam!” exclaimed Ran, the more taken by surprise that he had
been just thinking of them. It seemed to him that the lady must have
read his thoughts.
“Yes, those old friends of yours who came on with Judy and the Moseleys
and are boarding somewhere down in the city while waiting for their
steamer.”
“Oh! yes, madam! You mean Samson Longman and Andrew Quin? They are with
Michael at Markiss’ on Water Street. I do not know the number.”
“That is not necessary. I am sending them invitations to the wedding and
the breakfast; for though, of course, such a hasty affair as this is
will not admit of much ceremony and elaboration, yet they must be
present. There will be the Moseleys, the Stuarts, ourselves and your
friends from Markiss’.”
“I should tell you beforehand that those friends of mine come from a
mining camp, and though good and true as men can be, they are rough and
plain.”
“Well, my dear boy, I have told you who is coming, and so you may know
that these friends will meet no one in our house who will be so silly as
to look down upon them for being rough and plain. Really, Ran, dear, it
ought not to be necessary for me to say this,” concluded the lady.
For all answer, Randolph Hay went to her side, raised her hand and
pressed it to his lips with reverential tenderness.
Judy looked up in her face with eyes full of tears and murmured:
“The Lord in heaven bless you, sweet and lovely lady!”
Mrs. Walling smiled deprecatingly at this effusiveness and patted Judy
gently on the head. Then she turned to her writing-desk and wrote her
informal notes. These were the only invitations the lady had written.
The few others to the members of the two families more immediately
concerned had been verbal ones.
When she had finished directing the envelopes she handed them over to
Ran, saying:
“The letter box is directly on your way home; will you mind dropping
them in?”
“I will take charge of them with pleasure,” said Ran, and as the hour
was late he arose, said good-night and left the house.
But Ran did not drop the notes in a letter box. He walked over to Sixth
Avenue, hailed a car, boarded it and rode down as far as that car would
take him, then got out and walked to Markiss’; for he was anxious that
his friends should get their bids as soon as possible. He found Mike,
Longman, and Dandy all sitting smoking in the grimy back parlor behind
Markiss’ bar.
He entered and sat down among them. There happened to be no other guests
in the room.
“Well, boys, did you think I had forgotten you?” inquired Ran, really
remorseful for not having sought them out before.
“If we did we excused you, under the circumstances,” replied Longman,
speaking for the rest.
“I suppose Mike has told you that I am to marry his sister on Saturday
morning—that is, the day after to-morrow?”
“Oh, ay! trust Mike for that!” cried old Dandy with a little giggle.
“Well, I have come to-night to bring you invitations to be present at
the ceremony in the church and afterward at the breakfast at the house.
And, boys, you must be sure to come.”
“And where am I to get the widding garment proper for the occasion?
Sure, there’s no time to be cutted and fitted and made dacint to appear
in sich grand company, though I thank the lady all the same,” said
Andrew Quin.
“Why, Dandy! Don’t you know that you are in New York, where you can be
fitted out for a wedding or a funeral or an Arctic expedition in five
minutes—more or less?” laughed Ran.
“Yes; it’s more or less, I’ll allow. But I do reckon I can get a
ready-made suit of clothes raisonable enough here.”
“Certainly you can! But you must let me see to that, Dandy. I will be
down here again to-morrow. And, lest I should forget to tell you, I must
do so now. On Saturday morning you must let Mike bring you to the
church. He knows where it is.”
“All right, Misther Hay,” said Dandy.
“And, Longman, you have not promised, but you will come, I am sure. My
friends uptown wish to make the acquaintance of the Nimrod who saved my
life.”
“Oh, Mr. Hay!” laughed the giant deprecatingly. “But I shall be proud to
come to your wedding,” he added.
Then Ran bade them good-night and went home.
The next day—Friday—was the last before the wedding and the sailing.
There were yet a few articles to be purchased, and so Mrs. Walling got
ready to go on her usual morning shopping round. She asked Judy to put
on her hat to go with her.
She did not intend to call for Palma on this occasion; a feeling of
delicacy withheld her from going into the way of her thanks.
But while the carriage was standing at the door, and while Mrs. Walling
was waiting in the parlor for Judy to join her, Mrs. Cleve Stuart was
announced and entered the room.
Palma went straight up to Mrs. Walling with outstretched hands and
glowing eyes and said:
“How shall I thank you for the rich, beautiful dress—the soft, lovely,
caressing dress—that folds me around with the feeling of a friend’s
embrace—your embrace?”
For answer the lady drew the speaker to her bosom and kissed her,
smiling.
“I want you to know,” continued Palma, “that I feel more comfort in this
than I should if I had bought it myself out of boundless riches.”
Again Mrs. Walling kissed her, laughing this time.
“Every time I put it on I shall feel your love around me.”
The elder lady pressed both the younger one’s hands and said:
“We are going out to try to find a suitable sea cloak for Judy. We must
find an extra heavy one. It will be terribly cold crossing the ocean at
this season. They will be on the banks of Newfoundland in the first days
of December. Will you go with us?”
“With pleasure,” said Palma. And as Judy now entered the room, ready
dressed for the drive, they arose to go out. But just at that moment
Mrs. Duncan was announced and came in.
Both Mrs. Walling and Palma received her as cordially as if she had not
interrupted their departure. Mrs. Walling then introduced:
“My young friend, Miss Judith Man.”
“How do you do, my dear? I am glad to see you,” said the visitor.
Judy bowed and smiled.
“You are going out. Don’t let me detain you. I was on my way down to
Fourteenth Street to do a little shopping and just dropped in here to
tell you a piece of news; but I can take another opportunity,” Mrs.
Duncan explained.
“Oh, no! Pray do not! We should die of suspense! Pray, sit right down
and open your budget. Our errand can wait as well as yours. It is only
shopping. And when you are ready for yours you would oblige us by taking
the fourth seat in our carriage, so that we can go together,” Mrs.
Walling pleaded.
Mrs. Duncan laid down her muff and shopping bag and seated herself in
one of the luxurious armchairs.
Mrs. Walling rang a bell and gave an order:
“Bring coffee into this room.”
And presently the four women had tiny china cups in their hands, sipping
hot and fragrant Mocha, three of them listening while the fourth told
her news.
“It is about Jennie Montgomery, the true wife of the counterfeit
Randolph Hay——” began the speaker.
“Yes! yes!” eagerly exclaimed Mrs. Walling and Palma in a breath, while
Judy looked up in eager curiosity.
“You know, without any one’s planning—unless fate be some one—that
Jennie and her child were passengers on the same steamship, and even in
the same cabin, with her fraudulent husband and his false bride?”
“Yes! yes!”
“I said when I discovered that complication that those elements were as
explosive as dynamite. Neither could have expected the presence of the
other on the steamer, and so I was really anxious to hear what happened
when Miss Leegh and her ‘bridegroom’ met his lawful wife and child on
the ship, on the ocean, whence neither could escape without jumping into
the sea.”
“Well, have you heard?” impatiently demanded Mrs. Walling.
“Yes; I have just received a long letter from Jennie, dated November
15th. She had been at home four weeks before she found time to write to
me.”
“And——” breathlessly exclaimed Mrs. Walling.
“She met her husband on the deck of the steamer. She was as much
astonished as he was confounded. But I had better read her letter to
you.”
And the visitor drew a thickly packed envelope, with a foreign stamp,
from her pocket, and read the pages describing Jennie’s voyage, her
meeting with her husband and Miss Leegh on the _Scorpio_, and her
arrival at home in her father’s new vicarage, as these events are
already known to our readers.
“To think of Jennie’s self-control and forbearance!” concluded Mrs.
Duncan.
“And to think of Lamia Leegh’s insolence in trying to patronize her, the
real wife of her own ‘brevet’ bridegroom!” exclaimed Mrs. Walling.
“And to think of the man’s assurance in carrying off matters with such a
high hand!” remarked Palma.
“Och, sure, and himself had always the impidince av the divil, had
Gintleman Geff!” exclaimed Judy, surprised into her dialect; then,
suddenly aware of her “backsliding,” she clapped her hand to her mouth a
minute too late and looked frightened; but as she saw that neither of
her friends were in the least disturbed she felt relieved, while the
visitor evidently thought that the brogue had been humorously assumed
for the occasion, for she replied in kind:
“Ay, has he—the thaif av the worruld!” Then, turning to Mrs. Walling,
she continued: “What an active fate there seems to be at work here! Did
you see the significance of the latter part of Jennie’s letter?”
“Yes, of course; her father has left Medge, in the south of England, and
is in temporary charge of Haymore vicarage, in the north of England,”
replied Mrs. Walling.
“And our Gentleman Geff of the many wives and aliases, in trying to
escape his one real wife and avoid her father by getting off the steamer
at Queenstown will unwittingly rush into their power again the moment he
sets foot within his stolen estate at Haymore. Now, if his lawful wife
had been anybody else there might be a chance for a show of fight. But
the daughter of the Vicar of Haymore!”
“Ah!” exclaimed Mrs. Walling, drawing her breath hard.
“Jennie writes of the great preparations they are making at Haymore to
receive the usurping squire, who is now expected to arrive with a large
party of invited friends for the Christmas holidays, little knowing that
he will there meet his lawful wife and her avenging, priestly father.”
“And confront the lawful heir of Haymore with the more terrible family
solicitors,” laughed Mrs. Walling.
“Then Mr. Randolph Hay is really going over at once to take possession
of his estates?” inquired the visitor.
“Yes; he sails on Saturday; but not alone—he takes his wife with him. He
will be married on Saturday morning and embark in the afternoon.”
“Ah, indeed! That is news. I had heard no rumor of his being engaged, or
even attentive to any of our girls. Who is she?”
“My young friend here,” replied Mrs. Walling, pointing to Judy.
Mrs. Duncan jumped up and kissed the girl with effusions and
congratulations.
Judy blushed and smiled and bowed, but did not venture to speak again.
“The wedding is to be quiet. We don’t want a second edition of the
‘princely nuptials’ of ‘Mr. Randolph Hay’ and Miss Lamia Leegh. They, we
think, have done enough in that way ‘for the honor of the family.’ Our
wedding must be very plain. There are ‘no cards.’ I will not say there
will also be ‘no cake, no nothing.’ So, as you are interested, if you
will drop in, ‘promiscuously,’ at the ‘Little Church Around the Corner’
about ten o’clock to-morrow morning, you will witness one of the
happiest, though not one of the grandest, weddings on record.”
“I shall do myself that pleasure without a doubt,” replied Mrs. Duncan.
And then she arose and took up her muff and hand-bag to intimate that
she was ready to go.
And the four ladies entered the close carriage that was waiting at the
door and went on their shopping expedition.
It was perfectly successful, even to the sea cloak, a heavy cloth one,
reaching from head to heel, having long sleeves and hood, and lined
throughout with fur.
They took Mrs. Duncan to her door.
“There is one thing I would rather see than the wedding,” said Mrs.
Duncan.
“And what is that?” inquired Augusta Walling.
“The circus at Haymore Court when Mr. Randolph Hay and his wife arrive
there and meet Gentleman Geff and Miss Lamia Leegh.”