The Second Wedding
November is not altogether an hymeneal month, but it was not till
November that Lady Mary Palliser became the wife of Frank Tregear. It
was postponed a little, perhaps, in order that the Silverbridges,--as
they were now called,--might be present. The Silverbridges, who were
now quite Darby and Joan, had gone to the States when the Session
had been brought to a close early in August, and had remained there
nearly three months. Isabel had taken infinite pleasure in showing
her English husband to her American friends, and the American friends
had no doubt taken a pride in seeing so glorious a British husband
in the hands of an American wife. Everything was new to Silverbridge,
and he was happy in his new possession. She too enjoyed it
infinitely, and so it happened that they had been unwilling to
curtail their sojourn. But in November they had to return, because
Mary had declared that her marriage should be postponed till it could
be graced by the presence of her elder brother.
The marriage of Silverbridge had been August. There had been a
manifest intention that it should be so. Nobody knew with whom this
originated. Mrs. Boncassen had probably been told that it ought to
be so, and Mr. Boncassen had been willing to pay the bill. External
forces had perhaps operated. The Duke had simply been passive and
obedient. There had however been a general feeling that the bride
of the heir of the house of Omnium should be produced to the world
amidst a blare of trumpets and a glare of torches. So it had been.
But both the Duke and Mary were determined that this other wedding
should be different. It was to take place at Matching, and none would
be present but they who were staying in the house, or who lived
around,--such as tenants and dependants. Four clergymen united their
forces to tie Isabel to her husband, one of whom was a bishop, one a
canon, and the two others royal chaplains; but there was only to be
the Vicar of the parish at Matching. And indeed there were no guests
in the house except the two bridesmaids and Mr. and Mrs. Finn. As to
Mrs. Finn, Mary had made a request, and then the Duke had suggested
that the husband should be asked to accompany his wife.
It was very pretty. The church itself is pretty, standing in
the park, close to the ruins of the old Priory, not above three
hundred yards from the house. And they all walked, taking the broad
pathway through the ruins, going under that figure of Sir Guy which
Silverbridge had pointed out to Isabel when they had been whispering
there together. The Duke led the way with his girl upon his arm.
The two bridesmaids followed. Then Silverbridge and his wife, with
Phineas and his wife. Gerald and the bridegroom accompanied them,
belonging as it were to the same party! It was very rustic;--almost
improper! "This is altogether wrong, you know," said Gerald. "You
should appear coming from some other part of the world, as if you
were almost unexpected. You ought not to have been in the house at
all, and certainly should have gone under some disguise."
There had been rich presents too on this occasion, but they were
shown to none except to Mrs. Finn and the bridesmaids,--and perhaps
to the favoured servants in the house. At any rate there was nothing
said of them in the newspapers. One present there was,--given not to
the bride but to the bridegroom,--which he showed to no one except to
her. This came to him only on the morning of his marriage, and the
envelope containing it bore the postmark of Sedbergh. He knew the
handwriting well before he opened the parcel. It contained a small
signet-ring with his crest, and with it there were but a few words
written on a scrap of paper. "I pray that you may be happy. This was
to have been given to you long ago, but I kept it back because of
that decision." He showed the ring to Mary and told her it had come
from Lady Mabel;--but the scrap of paper no one saw but himself.
Perhaps the matter most remarkable in the wedding was the hilarity of
the Duke. One who did not know him well might have said that he was a
man with few cares, and who now took special joy in the happiness of
his children,--who was thoroughly contented to see them marry after
their own hearts. And yet, as he stood there on the altar-steps
giving his daughter to that new son and looking first at his girl,
and then at his married son, he was reminding himself of all that he
had suffered.
After the breakfast,--which was by no means a grand repast and at
which the cake did not look so like an ill-soldered silver castle as
that other construction had done,--the happy couple were sent away in
a modest chariot to the railway station, and not above half-a-dozen
slippers were thrown after them. There were enough for luck,--or
perhaps there might have been luck even without them, for the wife
thoroughly respected her husband, as did the husband his wife. Mrs.
Finn, when she was alone with Phineas, said a word or two about Frank
Tregear. "When she first told me of her engagement I did not think it
possible that she should marry him. But after he had been with me I
felt sure that he would succeed."
"Well, sir," said Silverbridge to the Duke when they were out
together in the park that afternoon, "what do you think about him?"
"I think he is a manly young man."
"He is certainly that. And then he knows things and understands them.
It was never a surprise to me that Mary should have been so fond of
him."
"I do not know that one ought to be surprised at anything. Perhaps
what surprised me most was that he should have looked so high. There
seemed to be so little to justify it. But now I will accept that as
courage which I before regarded as arrogance."