Leaping from his steed in the court-yard of the old Hall, Captain Danvers inquired for Lady Thicknesse; and learning that she was with Lady Barfleur, in the drawing-room, he hastened thither, and found the two ladies in question, with Lord Courland, Sir Bridgnorth, and his brother Scrope.
His looks caused general consternation, since all could perceive from them that some direful calamity-had happened.
Lord Courland rushed up to him, and, taking his hand, said:
“You bring us bad news, I'm afraid, Captain Danvers?”
“I do, indeed, my lord,” he replied in a sorrowful tone; “very painful news.”
At these words, the whole party gathered round him.
“To whom does your bad news relate?” inquired Lady Thicknesse.
“Chiefly to Mrs. Calverley,” he replied.
“Great Heaven, my worst fears are realised!” exclaimed Lord Courland, in a voice of anguish and despair. “Does she still live?”
“Death would be a release in her present state!” replied Captain Danvers. “She has swallowed poison.”
“Poison!” echoed several voices.
“And I am the cause of this dreadful act!” cried Lord Courland.
“Calm yourself, my lord, I entreat you!” said Captain Danvers. “It is not exactly as you suppose. That love for you has led this unhappy lady into the commission of a dreadful act is certain; but the attempt at self-destruction, which no doubt will end fatally, has been made solely to escape the consequences of her crime.”
The whole assemblage listened in horror to what was said.
“I will not ask you for any farther explanation,” cried Lord Courland, “unless you feel justified in giving it to me. But you have made certain dark allusions that ought to be cleared up. You charge Mrs. Calverley, whom I love dearly in spite of all, with the commission of a dreadful crime, to which she was instigated by love for me. What has she done? Is it a secret?”
“No, my lord,” replied Captain Danvers, with great feeling. “It is perfectly well known at Ousel-croft. She has attempted to poison her step-daughter, Mildred.”
“But what was the motive?” demanded Lord Courland.
“To prevent Mildred from profiting by her father's will. Had she died before the projected marriage, the property would have remained with Teresa.”
Lord Courland looked aghast.
“There is every reason to hope Mildred will recover,” pursued the captain. “Doctor Spencer is confident he can save her. He cannot save Mrs. Calverley, because remedial measures were too long delayed.”
A groan burst from Lord Courland.
“Pardon me, Lady Barfleur,” he said, turning to her, “if I quit you thus abruptly. I know you will excuse it under the circumstances. I shall return at once to Ouselcroft.”
“I will go with you,” said Scrope.
And they quitted the room together.
“I am quite as agitated and distressed as his lordship,” observed Lady Thicknesse. “You must take me back, Sir Bridgnorth.”
“I will order the horses at once,” he replied. “In a few minutes the phaeton shall be ready.”
And he departed on the errand.
“I grieve to leave thus, dearest sister,” said Lady Thicknesse. “But it cannot be helped.”
“I know it cannot,” Lady Barfleur replied. “Let me see you to-morrow. But nobody has told me how Emmeline is?”
“You needn't be uneasy about her, dear aunt,” replied Captain Danvers. “Through all this anxiety and trouble, Emmeline has kept up most wonderfully. I saw Rose, her attendant, not much more than an hour ago, and she said her young mistress had scarcely suffered from a headache. And now, dear aunt, I must take a hasty leave. Like the rest, I shall return to Ouselcroft, to see the end of this sad business. Adieu!”
Shortly afterwards Sir Bridgnorth appeared at the door to give Lady Thicknesse notice that the phaeton was ready.
“It is fortunate you have got Sir Bridgnorth with you, sister,” observed Lady Barfleur. “He is one of the most sensible and most agreeable men I know.”
“I am glad to hear you say so, sister,” replied Lady Thicknesse. “He proposed as he drove me here this morning, and I accepted him.”
“Bless me! Thatisnews!” cried Lady Barfleur. “Come here, dear Sir Bridgnorth,” she added, signing to him. “I must have a word with you. I have just heard something that has enchanted me. You are made for each other. Now don't stop here a moment longer, but take her to the carriage. Goodbye!”
Alone with the dying Teresa. “Take comfort,” said the good chaplain, regarding her with tenderness and compassion. “Ease your breast by a full confession, and then, if your repentance is sincere, doubt not Heaven's goodness and mercy. Our blessed Saviour will not desert you.”
On this, Teresa knelt down before him, and, though he strove to raise her, she would not quit the humble posture.
“Prepare yourself for a dreadful relation, reverend sir,” she said, clasping her hands. “I had the best and kindest of husbands, who studied my every wish, and strove in every way to make me happy. I persuaded him I was happy; but I deceived him. The yoke I had put on was unsupportable.
“An evil spirit seemed to have taken possession of my breast. I strove to dismiss the wicked thoughts that assailed me; but they came back again and again, and with greater force than before.
“I had not a fault to find with my husband—he was kindness itself. Yet I sought to get rid of him by poison. It was long before I could make up my mind to the dreadful act; but I was ever brooding upon it.
“At last I obtained the poison, minute doses of which would kill without exciting suspicion. But not till my husband was attacked by some slight illness did I administer the first dose.
“He grew worse. But it seemed only a natural increase of the malady, and the symptoms excited no suspicion whatever in his medical attendant, the progress of the poison being so slow and insidious. Moreover, I was constantly with my victim, and acted as his nurse.”
The good chaplain covered his face with his hands, and a short pause ensued, which was broken by Teresa.
“And now comes the astounding part of my narration,” she said. “I can scarcely credit my own hardness of heart. As I saw this kind and excellent man, who loved me so dearly, gradually wasting away—literally dying by inches—I felt no compunction—none! I counted the days he could live.”
Here there was another pause, and the guilty woman had to summon up resolution before she could proceed.
“To free myself from my marriage fetters was only part of my scheme,” she said. “My greedy spirit would not be content without my husband's property, and this I felt certain I could secure. He doted upon me. I had obtained his entire confidence. I knew his inmost thoughts. He had quarrelled with his son. I aggravated the dispute, and took care to prevent a reconciliation, which could have been easily effected had I so desired it.
“My ascendancy over my infirm husband was now so great that he acted upon all my suggestions; and by hints cunningly thrown out, I easily induced him to make a will in my favour, persuading him I would carry out his wishes in regard to his son and daughter.”
“Did no suspicion cross him?” inquired the chaplain.
“Not till the last night of his life,” she replied. “But I think it did then. If he suspected me, he never taxed me with my guilt.”
At this moment a sudden change came over her, and she gazed strangely into the vacancy.
“What troubles you?” inquired the chaplain.
“I thought I saw my husband standing there!” she replied, with a shudder.
“'Tis fancy. Proceed with your confession. You have more to tell?”
“I have,” she replied, with a fearful look. “The dark tragedy was over. Intoxicated by the power and wealth I had acquired, I contrived to stifle remorse. I kept Mildred constantly with me. Her presence seemed to shield me, and I sought to make some amends by befriending Chetwynd.
“But vengeance was pursuing me, though with slow feet. My punishment was accomplished in an unforeseen manner. Hitherto my heart had never known love, and I thought myself proof against the tender passion. But it was not so. I met Lord Courland at the house of Lady Thicknesse in London, and he at once won my affections and offered me his hand.
“Loving him, and thinking to bind him to me, I promised him half the large property I fancied at my disposal. All was arranged, and my destined husband had come down here to see his future abode, when almost at the last moment I discovered that if I married again the whole of the property would go to Mildred.
“This discovery roused all the evil passions in my heart, and I determined to remove her in the same manner I had removed her father.
“Provided with the means of executing my fell purpose, I did not delay it. You were present, reverend sir, when I dropped poison, unperceived, into her wine, and you may remember how soon it took effect?”
“I remember she was suddenly seized with illness after drinking a glass of champagne,” he replied, with a look of horror; “but I little thought the wine had been drugged—nor did any one.”
“She recovered,” pursued the guilty woman; “and all might have been well if I could have resisted the dreadful temptation to which I was subjected. But I yielded.
“Again I contrived to give her poison, and another seizure followed. Doctor Spencer was sent for. The symptoms could not be mistaken; the terrible crime was discovered, and quickly traced to me. The poison being found in my possession, my guilt was established.”
“It may comfort you to learn that Mildred will recover,” observed Mr. Massey. “The medicines given her by Doctor Spencer have produced a wonderful effect. At first I had little hope. But now I have every confidence that her life will be spared.”
“'Tis well,” she replied. “But my doom is sealed. Doctor Spencer took away the phial containing the poison; but I had enough left for myself.”
“And you have done this desperate deed?” he asked.
“I could not live,” she replied. “I should go mad. But that Mildred will live is the greatest possible consolation to me. If I could see her, and obtain her forgiveness, I think I could die in peace. But I have not strength to go to her.”
“She is here,” said the chaplain.
The dying woman raised her eyes, and beheld Mildred standing before her, wrapped in a loose robe, and supported by Emmeline and Rose Hartley.
Behind them was Chetwynd, who closed the door after him as he came in.
Mildred's countenance was exceedingly pale; but her eyes were bright, and her looks seemed almost angelic to the despairing Teresa, who crept humbly towards her.
“I do not deserve pardon,” said the penitent woman. “Yet for the sake of Him who died for us, and washed out our sins with His blood, I implore you to forgive me!”
“I do forgive you,” rejoined Mildred. “I have come hither for that purpose. May Heaven have mercy upon you!”
“Since your repentance is sincere, daughter,” said the chaplain, “may your sins be blotted out, and the guilt of your many offences be remitted.”
“Amen!” exclaimed Chetwynd.
“Then farewell!” said Teresa, in a faint voice. “Farewell, Emmeline! farewell, Chetwynd! Think not of me with abhorrence; but, if you can, with pity!”
Without a word more, she sank backwards, and expired.
Chetwynd caught her before she fell, and placed her on a couch.
All those who had witnessed her death had departed, except Mr. Massey, who was still in the room when Lord Courland entered.
On beholding the body, he uttered a frenzied cry, and rushed towards it.
“I would have given five years of my own life to exchange a few words with her ere she breathed her last!” he exclaimed, in a voice of bitterest anguish and self-reproach.
“You loved her, then, deeply, my lord?” said Chetwynd.
“She was the only woman I ever loved,” replied Lord Courland. “Farewell, Teresa!”
Bending down and kissing her brow, he quitted the room with Chetwynd.
Amonth must now be allowed to elapse.
During the interval, the dark clouds that hung over Ouselcroft have dispersed, and the place has once more assumed a pleasant aspect.
Unhappy Teresa will never again trouble those connected with her.
Mildred, we rejoice to say, under the care of Doctor Spencer, has entirely recovered, and looks more beautiful than ever. She is at Brackley with Emmeline, who has quite regained her spirits and good looks, both of which had suffered from her recent anxiety. Rose Hartley is still with them.
Master of Ouselcroft, Chetwynd has already won the hearts of his dependents. He looks somewhat older and much graver, and Norris says he discerns a likeness to his father that he never perceived before.
As to Norris himself, we need scarcely say he still holds the most important post in the household, and will continue to hold it as long as he is able to do so.
Chetwynd has two guests staying with him—Sir Bridgnorth Charlton and Captain Danvers—and they will remain at Ouselcroft till certain contemplated events come off.
Lady Thicknesse is at Brackley with Lady Barfleur, and means to stay there for a short time longer. She has engaged Laura, and is very well satisfied with her. The talkative lady's-maid suits her exactly. Sir Bridgnorth drives out her ladyship daily in his phaeton, and they then discuss their future plans, but she has not yet seen Charlton, nor will she visit her future residence till she goes there as its mistress. She has every prospect of happiness with Sir Bridgnorth, who really devotes himself to her, and strives to anticipate all her wishes.
Charles Danvers and Mildred pass all their time together. At first, they contented themselves with the gardens of Brackley; but since Mildred has grown stronger, and is able to take equestrian exercise, they have begun to take long rides, and are seldom seen between luncheon and dinner. Captain Danvers considers himself a most fortunate man, and with good reason, for he will have a most lovely bride, and a very large fortune.
But what of Chetwynd? Ought he not to be esteemed fortunate? As far as wealth is concerned, he has far more than he ever dreamed of, and if he weds the heiress of Brackley, he will become one of the richest men in the county. But his chief wealth, in his own esteem, is in the prize he has won, and he looks forward eagerly to the day—now not very far distant, he hopes—when he shall make her his own.
Such is the present state of things at the two houses the inmates of which are constantly together, dining with each other daily, either at Ouselcroft or Brackley; but we shall, perhaps, learn more, by assisting at a confidential talk that took place one afternoon in the butler's pantry at Ouselcroft, between old Norris and Laura.
“Well, Mr. Norris,” she said, “I am come to see how you are getting on. We are quiet enough just now, but we shall soon have plenty to do.”
“In what way?” asked the butler.
“In the matrimonial line,” replied Laura. “Three weddings will come off very shortly.”
“Are any of them fixed?” inquired Norris.
“Not that I am aware of,” replied the lady's-maid; “but they cannot be long delayed. All depends upon Lady Thicknesse. When she names the day, the other two are sure to follow suit.”
“Her ladyship, I suppose, has positively accepted Sir Bridgnorth?” asked Norris.
“Positively,” replied Laura; “and a very good choice she has made, according to my notion. For my own part, I should prefer the old baronet to either of the young men.”
“Pooh, pooh! He won't bear comparison with my young master. Of course, he's very suitable to a middle-aged dame like Lady Thicknesse.”
“He's very agreeable, I repeat, and I think my lady uncommonly lucky in securing him. I believe they've agreed to spend half the year in town, and the other half in the country. That'll just suit me.”
“At any rate, they'll have no lack of money,” said Norris. “But, after all, Lady Thicknesse is nothing like so rich as her niece—to say nothing of Brackley, which must come to the young lady by-and-by.”
“Yes; they'll have too much,” observed Laura. “I wonder where Mr. Chetwynd and his lady will reside?”
“Why, here—at Ouselcroft—of course,” replied Norris.
“I don't feel sure of that,” said Laura. “I sometimes fancy they'll live at Brackley.”
“Nonsense!” exclaimed Norris. “Mr. Chetwynd will never leave his father's house, now he has got possession of it. I'm certain of that.”
“Then Captain and Mrs. Danvers may as well take up their quarters at Brackley,” said Laura.
“You're settling all very nicely!” said Norris, with a laugh. “But I don't know that Lady Barfleur will consent to take them. I should think not. All very well as visitors, but not for a permanence.”
“Well, then, Mrs. Danvers must buy a place,” said Laura. “She'll have money enough.”
Norris laughed; but, directly afterwards, his countenance changed, and he said, gravely:
“Ah, Laura! we live in a strange world. A month ago, who would have thought things would be in this state? Then we were talking over Mrs. Calverley's contemplated marriage with Lord Courland. Now she is gone, and other weddings are about to take place.”
“Don't mention the poor dear lady, Mr. Norris, if you wouldn't make me cry,” said Laura, taking out her pocket-handkerchief. “She had dreadful faults, no doubt; but she was always very kind to me, and I will say this of her, she was the loveliest creature ever beheld.”
“She contrived to do a great deal of mischief in her time,” observed Norris.
“Granted,” rejoined Laura. “But you ought to feel some sorrow for her, seeing how very handsomely she behaved to you, Mr. Norris. I'm sure I feel very much obliged to her for my fifty pounds, though I wish it had been five thousand, like Lord Courland's legacy.”
“Yes, that's a good lumping sum,” observed Norris, “and will console his lordship for her loss.”
“I suppose he has got the money?” remarked Laura.
“Yes; the legacy has already been paid,” replied Norris.
“I thought it had,” said Laura. “But do tell me, Mr. Norris—is it true the poor lady has been seen since her death?”
“Clarissa declares she certainly beheld her the other evening in the dressing-room,” replied the butler.
“Dear me, how dreadful!” exclaimed Laura, “I should be frightened to death. Clarissa saw her in the dressing-room, you say. How was it? Do tell me!”
“Clarissa's tale is this. She was in the poor lady's bedchamber the other evening, just as it was growing dusk, when fancying she heard a sound in the dressing-room, she opened the door, which was standing ajar, and then beheld an apparition exactly resembling Mrs. Calverley, and holding a small phial, at which the figure was looking. So scared was Clarissa at the sight, that she could neither cry out nor stir till the apparition turned its head and fixed its eyes upon her. Their expression was so terrible that she rushed back, and fell senseless on the bedchamber floor. This is the account she gives, and most of the women-servants believe it, but I regard it as mere fancy.”
“Ibelieve it, Mr. Norris,” replied Laura, shuddering. “I once saw Mrs. Calverley myself in the dressing-room, in the exact posture you describe her, with a little phial in her hand, containingeau de luce, she said, but I am now sure it was poison. I shall never forget the look she gave me. Depend upon it, Clarissa has seen her spirit.”
“May be so,” observed Norris.
“The poor thing can't rest, and I don't wonder at it,” observed Laura. “I suppose these rooms will be shut up, Mr. Norris?”
“Nobody has slept there since the poor lady's death,” he replied; “but I can't say about shutting up the rooms.”
“I wouldn't sleep there for the world,” remarked Laura. “Indeed, after this occurrence, I don't think I shall ever venture into the dressing-room again. I should always expect to find her there.”
Just then a bell was rung, and Norris instantly prepared to answer the summons.
“My young master wants to see me before he sets out for Brackley,” he said. “Stay where you are for a few minutes. I may have something to tell you.”
When Norris reappeared, he had a very joyful expression of countenance.
“I can tell you something you don't know, Laura,” he said—“something about Lady Thicknesse.”
“I know what it is. The wedding-day is fixed.”
“Right!”
“When is it to be?” she exclaimed, eagerly.
“This day week,” replied the butler.
“Then her ladyship will get the start of the others,” said Laura.
“I'm not sure of that,” replied Norris, significantly. “I can't tell you any more now. All I know is, my young master and Captain Danvers have just ridden off to Brackley.”
When Chetwynd and Captain Danvers were about half a mile from Brackley Park, they saw Sir Bridgnorth and Lady Thicknesse coming slowly along in the phaeton.
The pair looked so happy, and so completely engrossed by each other, that the two young men scarcely liked to interrupt them. However, Sir Bridgnorth pulled up, and then the others stopped likewise.
After a few words had passed, her ladyship signed to Chetwynd to come close to her, and said, in a low voice:
“I have had some talk with Lady Barfleur this morning, and I think she has consented that your marriage with Emmeline shall take place immediately. Sir Bridgnorth, who was present at the time, lent his aid, and spoke so urgently, that I think he decided the point.”
“I am infinitely indebted to you both,” said Chet-wynd, glancing at Sir Bridgnorth.
“You will find Emmeline in the garden,” said Lady Thicknesse; “and by the time we come back from our drive, I hope all will be satisfactorily settled.”
“This day week, mind!—not later!” added Sir Bridgnorth, leaning towards him. “All is ready for us at Charlton.”
The baronet then moved on, while the others rode off in the opposite direction.
Arrived at Brackley, our friends ascertained that both young ladies were in the garden, and immediately went in quest of them, and found them seated near the bowling-green.
This being the first time we have seen them since their deliverance from Teresa, we are bound to say they were both looking charmingly, and in capital spirits. Mildred's illness hadn't left a trace on her fair countenance. On the contrary, she seemed prettier than ever.
No sooner did their lovers appear than they arose, and flew to meet them; and a very lover-like meeting took place.
But the couples then separated, and Chetwynd and Emmeline, whom we shall accompany, moved off to a short distance.
“Emmeline,” said Chetwynd, “I had resolved not to ask you to fulfil your promise to me till I had gone through a year's probation; nor should I have done so had I not been placed by circumstances in a totally different position from what I was at that time. If you have confidence in my reformation—if you think I have proved myself worthy of you—if you can trust me—I will beg you to abridge my term, and give yourself to me now. But if you have any doubt remaining—if you deem it better to wait till the appointed time—I pray you to do so! Your happiness is my chief concern; and, however irksome the delay may be, I shall not complain!”
“I have entire faith in you, dear Chetwynd,” she replied, in a voice of much emotion. “In every respect you have proved yourself worthy of my love, and I am prepared to give you my hand whenever you claim it.”
“I claim it at once,” he said, eagerly. “And as there is now no obstacle—for Lady Thicknesse tells me your mother has given her consent—I pray that our union may take place on the same day as the marriage of her ladyship with Sir Bridgnorth.”
“Be it so,” said Emmeline; “and I hope another marriage will take place at the same time.”
Just then, the voice of Captain Danvers was heard at a little distance, and he called out:
“Don't let me interrupt you; but Mildred won't fix the day till she is satisfied you are agreed.”
“Then tell her weareagreed,” replied Emmeline. “Will this day week suit?”
“It will suit her perfectly,” replied the captain.
“You answer for me!” said Mildred, laughing; “but, though you speak without authority, it is really the day I should choose.”
“I felt certain of it, or I should not have ventured to say so,” observed the captain. “But, since all private arrangements are made, and we are to be wedded at the same time, won't it be more convenient to talk matters over together?”
“I am quite of that opinion,” said Chetwynd.
No dissentient voice was raised. So they all came together, and began to discuss the general arrangements.
Ere long they were joined by Lady Barfleur, who gave her formal consent to her daughter's union with Chetwynd, and then took part in the discussion.
It was agreed they should be married in the private chapel belonging to the Hall, and that the Reverend Mr. Massey should perform the ceremony.
This was the chief matter, but they had a good deal to talk over besides, and they were still engaged in the discussion when Lady Thicknesse and Sir Bridgnorth returned from their drive.
Having already decided upon the private chapel of Mr. Massey, the last-mentioned pair had only to express their satisfaction that their own plans had been adopted, but they had many congratulations to offer to Chetwynd and Emmeline.
The auspicious day had arrived on which the three marriages were to take place, or rather we ought to say four, since it had been arranged that Rose Hartley was to be married to Harry Netterville at the same time.
Harry had come down two days before to Ousel-croft, and had brought with him, on Chetwynd's special invitation, Mr. and Mrs. Hartley, together with Tom Tankard, who was to act as Harry's best man. Higgins was now staying at Brackley, and Mr. Tankard had been invited there. Captain Pon-sonby, an old friend, had agreed to act as Chetwynd's best man, and Scrope Danvers would perform the same office for his brother. Sir Bridgnorth dispensed with a friend, and Lady Thicknesse had no bridesmaid. Emmeline's bridesmaids were to be the two Miss Bretons, the beautiful Emma Ashton, and Hortensia Biddulph; Mildred's attendants were the Miss Leiglis, Eugenia Radcliffe, and Blanche Dukinfield. It was not deemed advisable to increase the number, considering the small size of the chapel. Sir Gerard Danvers and Scrope were staying at Brackley, but Sir Bridgnorth, Captain Ponsonby, and Captain Danvers were at Ouselcroft.
A wedding portion of five hundred pounds had been jointly bestowed on Rose by Emmeline and Mildred, and Harry Netterville was to be appointed to the post of steward at Brackley.
The general arrangements was these. Chetwynd and his bride were to spend their honeymoon in perfect retirement at Ouselcroft; Captain and Mrs. Danvers meant to proceed to Windermere and the Lake country; and Sir Bridgnorth and his lady, like sensible folks, intended to drive at once to Charlton.
Such were the arrangements, and it was a matter of congratulation to all when the morning proved fine.
An early and very cheery breakfast took place at Ouselcroft, for all three bridegrooms were in excellent spirits. Another early breakfast also took place in another room at the same house, at which Mr. and Mrs. Hartley, Harry Netterville, and Tom Tankard assisted.
After they had finished breakfast, Chetwynd came into the room and shook hands with them all.
“I'm right glad to see you here, Hartley,” he said, clapping him kindly on shoulder. “Without you, my good friend, I should neither have been master of this house, nor wedded to her I love. I told you then I would some day prove my gratitude; and I mean to do so now. I have got a nice comfortable farm-house, which I shall bestow upon you and your wife, and where Harry Netterville can live with you. He will have a post as steward. I shall be glad to have you all near me.”
“Heaven bless you, sir!” exclaimed Hartley, much affected. “You could not have conferred a greater kindness upon me, nor one I shall more appreciate!”
Mrs. Hartley was so overcome that she could hardly get out her thanks, but she did so at last.
We must now repair to Brackley.
As the day advanced, the old Hall presented a gayer appearance that it had done for many and many a year. The large court-yard was entirely filled with the tenants and retainers of the lord of the mansion—who henceforward would be represented by Chetwynd—their wives and daughters, some of the latter being very good-looking, and very well-dressed.
Harry had come down two days before to Ouselcroft, and had brought with him, on Chetwynd's special invitation, Mr. and Mrs. Hartley, together with Tom Tankard, who was to act as Harry's best man. Higgins was now staying at Brackley, and Mr. Tankard had been invited there. Captain Pon-sonby, an old friend, had agreed to act as Chetwynd's best man, and Scrope Danvers would perform the same office for his brother. Sir Bridgnorth dispensed with a friend, and Lady Thicknesse had no bridesmaid. Emmeline's bridesmaids were to be the two Miss Bretons, the beautiful Emma Ashton, and Hortensia Biddulph; Mildred's attendants were the Miss Leighs, Eugenia Radcliffe, and Blanche Dukinfield. It was not deemed advisable to increase the number, considering the small size of the chapel. Sir Gerard Danvers and Scrope were staying at Brackley, but Sir Bridgnorth, Captain Ponsonby, and Captain Danvers were at Ouselcroft.
A wedding portion of five hundred pounds had been jointly bestowed on Rose by Emmeline and Mildred, and Harry Netterville was to be appointed to the post of steward at Brackley.
The general arrangements was these. Chetwynd and his bride were to spend their honeymoon in perfect retirement at Ouselcroft; Captain and Mrs. Danvers meant to proceed to Windermere and the Lake country; and Sir Bridgnorth and his lady, like sensible folks, intended to drive at once to Charlton.
Such were the arrangements, and it was a matter of congratulation to all when the morning proved fine.
An early and very cheery breakfast took place at Ouselcroft, for all three bridegrooms were in excellent spirits. Another early breakfast also took place in another room at the same house, at which Mr. and Mrs. Hartley, Harry Netterville, and Tom Tankard assisted.
After they had finished breakfast, Chetwynd came into the room and shook hands with them all.
“I'm right glad to see you here, Hartley,” he said, clapping him kindly on shoulder. “Without you, my good friend, I should neither have been master of this house, nor wedded to her I love. I told you then I would some day prove my gratitude; and I mean to do so now. I have got a nice comfortable farm-house, which I shall bestow upon you and your wife, and where Harry Netterville can live with you. He will have a post as steward. I shall be glad to have you all near me.”
“Heaven bless you, sir!” exclaimed Hartley, much affected. “You could not have conferred a greater kindness upon me, nor one I shall more appreciate!”
Mrs. Hartley was so overcome that she could hardly get out her thanks, but she did so at last.
We must now repair to Brackley.
As the day advanced, the old Hall presented a gayer appearance that it had done for many and many a year. The large court-yard was entirely filled with the tenants and retainers of the lord of the mansion—who henceforward would be represented by Chetwynd—their wives and daughters, some of the latter being very good-looking, and very well-dressed.
Among our acquaintances was Marple, the farmer, who had been present when Sir Leycester Barfleur was lost in the morass, and honest Ned Rushton, the keeper.
Already a brilliant assemblage was collected in the large room up-stairs, which was beautifully decorated with flowers, as were the drawing-room and the Hall. In fact, there were flowers everywhere.
At length the bell began to ring, the several bridal parties assembled in the Hall, and marshalled by Higgins and Norris, issued forth.
Preceded by a dozen young damsels dressed in white, who scattered flowers in their path, they then moved through the crowded court to the chapel, amid the audibly-expressed good wishes of the beholders.
Sir Bridgnorth and Lady Thicknesse took the lead, and her ladyship looked magnificent in her bridal array.
Then came Emmeline, escorted by her uncle, Sir Gerard Danvers, and followed by Chetwynd and Captain Ponsonby. She excited general admiration, as did Mildred, who followed on the arm of Mr. Talbot Hesketh, her mother's first cousin. Close behind them came Captain Danvers and his brother Scrope. Lastly came Rose, charmingly and simply attired in white, and looking quite as pretty as the others. Attended by her mother, and leaning on her father's arm, she was followed by Netterville and Tom Tankard. Laura and Clarissa were to act as her bridesmaids, but they had already gone into the chapel.
The little chapel presented an exceedingly pretty sight; but it was so full that very few of the tenantry could be admitted.
The chaplain was already at the altar, and his venerable figure completed the charming picture.
A few minutes elapsed while the several couples were being placed; but at length this preliminary proceeding was accomplished, and the ceremony commenced.
At this juncture the scene was exceedingly interesting, and long lived in the memory of those fortunate enough to behold it.
Rarely have two more beautiful brides than Emmeline and Mildred appeared at the altar—nay, we may say three, for Rose was little their inferior in beauty; and Lady Thicknesse, if she had not youth, had remarkable grace and elegance.
Grouped around were the bridesmaids, all of whom were young, exceedingly pretty, and charmingly attired.
Placed somewhat apart was Lady Barfleur, but being in deep mourning, she would not mingle with the group.
The ceremony proceeded, and the different couples were united.
Lady Thicknesse became Lady Bridgnorth, greatly to the delight of the excellent baronet. Chetwynd was made supremely happy by the hand of Emmeline. Nor had Charles Danvers less reason to be content, for in Mildred he obtained a treasure; while we doubt whether any one was happier than Harry Netterville, when he could really call Rose his own.
The ceremony is over.
We will accompany the happy couples—and they really deserve to be so described—as they cross the still crowded court, and pass through lines of bowing tenantry into the hall; but we will not join the throng in the drawing-room, nor sit down with the large party in the dining-room to the admirable breakfast prepared by Monsieur Zephyrus.
We will make passing bows to the beautiful brides; we will say farewell to our kindly Sir Bridgnorth, whom we rejoice to say still flourishes; we will bid adieu to Chetwynd and Charles Danvers, and wish them all happiness.
We will visit for a moment another table in another room, at which we shall find our blooming little Rose and her happy husband—now the happiest couple possible—her worthy father and doting mother; Tom Tankard andhisfather, who keeps him in order; Marple, the farmer; Ned Rushton, the keeper; and a great many more, all of whom are enjoying a most plentiful and excellent repast, at which, besides wine, there is no lack of good strong ale, a couple of casks having been broached that morning for the tenantry and general guests.
Our task is done.