Married.—On the morning of the 10th instant, at Blue Cliff Hall, Virginia, the seat of the bride, by the Rev. Dr. Beresford Jones, Mr. Alden Lytton, of Richmond, to Miss Emma Angela, only daughter of the late Charles Cavendish, Governor of Virginia.
Married.—On the morning of the 10th instant, at Blue Cliff Hall, Virginia, the seat of the bride, by the Rev. Dr. Beresford Jones, Mr. Alden Lytton, of Richmond, to Miss Emma Angela, only daughter of the late Charles Cavendish, Governor of Virginia.
She read no further that day. There were other marriages following this; but she felt no curiosity now about them. And there was a formidable row of death notices, headed by the obituary of Mrs. Cavendish, but she did not even see it.
The announcement of the marriage had taken her by surprise. She had not expected to see it for a month yet to come. And, as she did not observe the notice of Mrs. Cavendish's death, she could not understand why the marriage had been hastened by so many weeks.
"So it is over," she said. "It is over, and it has been over for five days. They are in the midst of their happiness, enjoyed at the expense of my misery. Theirs is a fool's paradise from which I could eject them at any moment; but I will not—not just yet. The longer I suspend the blow the heavier it will fall at last. They will carry out their programme, I presume; so far, at least, as to go upon their bridal trip to Europe. I could stop them on the eve of their voyage; but I will not. I will let them go and return, and hold their wedding-reception, and then, in the midst of their joy and triumph, in the presence of their admiring friends—"
She paused to gloat with demoniac enjoyment over the picture her wicked imagination had conjured up.
—"Then I will turn all their joy to despair, all their triumph to humiliation, all their glory to shame! And I will do all this alone—alone, or use others only as my blind tools.
"Of course they will take this city on their way to New York to embark for Europe. And they will call on me to show me their happiness, and take a keener relish of it from seeing the contrast of my misery. But they shall be disappointed in that, at least. I will not be dragged at the wheels of their triumphal car. I will not stay here to receive them. I will leave town, and stay out of it until I am sure that they have passed through and left it."
She kept her word.
She went down to Forestville, ostensibly to relieve a poor family suffering under an accumulation of afflictions, but really to be out of the way of the bridal pair, and to get upevidence in the case she intended to bring against the husband of Emma Cavendish.
When she had been but a few days at Forestville she received a letter from Miss Romania Crane—who in her absence kept up a sentimental correspondence with her—informing her of the visit of Mr. and Mrs. Alden Lytton, the bride and bridegroom from Blue Cliffs, who stopped for a day in the city on their way to New York.
Immediately on her receipt of this letter she returned to Richmond and to the house of the Misses Crane.
And she very much surprised and shocked these ladies by assuming an air of grief and distraction as extreme in itself as it was unaccountable to them.
They could not even imagine what was the matter with her. She refused to give any explanation of her apparent mental anguish, and she repelled all sympathy.
The Misses Crane were afraid she was going to lose her reason.
They went to see the minister and the minister's wife on the subject. They found only the lady at home. And to her they stated the mysterious case.
"There is something very heavy on her mind, my dear. I am sure there is something awful on her mind."
"There has been this long time, I think," said the minister's wife.
"Yes, I know; but it is a thousand times worse now. My dear, she keeps her room nearly all day. She never comes to the table. If I send her meals up to her they come back almost untasted. And I assure you she does not sleep any better than she eats. Her room is over mine, and so I can hear her walking the floor half the night," said Miss Romania Crane.
"What can be the cause of her distress?" inquired the rector's lady.
"I don't know. I can't get her to tell me. She only says that 'her life is wrecked forever, and that she wishes only to be left to herself until death shall relieve her.' And all that sort of talk," said Miss Romania.
"And have you no suspicion?"
"None in the world that seems at all rational. The only one I have seems foolish."
"But what is it?"
"Well, I sometimes think—but indeed it is a silly thought—that her distress is in some way connected with the marriage of Mr. Lytton and Miss Cavendish, for I notice thatevery time the name of either of them is mentioned she grows so much worse that I and my sister have ceased ever to speak of them."
"It can not be that she was ever in love with Mr. Lytton," suggested the minister's lady.
"I should think not. I should think she was not that weak-minded sort of woman to give way to such sentiment, much less to be made so extremely wretched by it. For I do tell you, my dear, her state is simply that of the utmost mental wretchedness."
"I will ask my husband to go to her. He is her pastor, and may be able to do her some good," said the minister's wife.
"Do, my dear, and come to see her yourself," said Miss Romania, as she and her sister arose to take leave.
Now you know all this distress was just "put on" by Mrs. Grey, to give coloring and plausibility to her future proceedings.
To be sure she kept her room, but it was not to grieve in secret: it was to excite the compassion and wonder of her sympathizing friends, while she laid her plans, drank French cordials, and feasted privately on the delicacies of the season, which she would secretly bring in, or dozed on her sofa and dreamed of her coming sweet revenge.
Certainly, instead of going to bed at a decent hour, she would walk the floor of her chamber half the night. But this was not done because she was suffering, or sleepless from grief, but for the purpose of keeping poor Miss Crane awake all night in the room below and making the poor lady believe that she, Mary Grey, was breaking her own heart in these vigils.
And for her want of nightly rest Mary Grey compensated herself by dozing half the day on her sofa; and for her want of regular meals she made up by slipping out occasionally and feasting at some "ladies' restaurant."
But her object was effected. She impressed everybody who came near her with the belief that she had suffered some awful wrong or bereavement of which she could not speak, but which threatened to unseat her reason or end her life.
At length her minister came to see her. He expressed the deepest sympathy with her sufferings, and implored her to relieve her overburdened heart by confiding in him or in his wife, from either or both of whom, he assured her, she should receive respectful compassion and substantial assistance, if the last was necessary.
Then, pretending to yield to his better judgment, she consented to give him her confidence.
And taking him up to her own sitting-room, where they could be safe from interruption, she bound him over to secrecy, and then, with many affected tears and moans, she told him the astounding story that she had long been privately married to Mr. Alden Lytton, who had deserted her within a few days after their wedding, and who had recently, as every one knew, united himself in matrimony with Miss Emma Cavendish, of Blue Cliffs, Virginia, and had gone with her on a wedding trip to Europe.
While she told him this stupendous tale, the minister sat with open mouth and eyes, gazing on her with more of the air of an idiot than of a learned and accomplished gentleman.
He was, in fact, utterly amazed and confounded by the story he had heard.
That Alden Lytton, a young man of the highest social position, of unblemished reputation from his youth up, an accomplished scholar, a learned jurist, an eloquent barrister, and, more than all, a Christian gentleman, should have been guilty of the base treachery and the degrading crime here charged upon him was just simply incredible—no more nor less than incredible.
Or that Mary Grey, the loveliest lady of his congregation, should be capable of a malicious fabrication was utterly impossible.
There was then but one way out of the dilemma: Mary Grey was insane and suffering under a distressing hallucination that took this form.
So said the look of consternation and pity that the minister fixed upon the speaker's face.
"I see that you discredit my story, and doubt even mysanity. But here is something that you can neither doubt nor discredit," she said, as she drew from her pocket the marriage certificate and placed it in his hands.
The minister opened and read it. And as he read this evidence of a "Christian gentleman's" base perfidy the look of consternation and amazement that had held possession of his countenance gave place to one of disgust and abhorrence.
"Do you doubtnow?" meaningly inquired Mary Grey.
"Ah, no, I can not doubt now! I wish to Heaven I could! I would rather, my child, believe you to be under the influence of a distressing hallucination than know this man to be the consummate villain this certificate proves him to be. I can not doubt the certificate. I wish I could; but I know this Reverend Mr. Borden. On my holiday trips North I have sometimes stopped at his house and filled his pulpit. I am familiar with his handwriting. I can not doubt," groaned the minister.
Mary Grey dropped her hands and pretended to sob aloud.
"Do not weep so much, poor child! Deeply wronged as you have been by this ruthless sinner you have not been so awfully injured as has been this most unhappy young lady, Miss Cavendish, whom he has deceived to her destruction," said the minister.
"And do you not suppose that I grieve forhertoo?" sobbed Mary Grey.
"Ah, yes, I am sure your tender, generous heart, wronged and broken as it is, has still the power left to grieve for her as well as for yourself."
"But what is my duty? Ah, what is my duty in this supreme trial? I can not save my life or hers from utter wreck, but I can do my duty, and I will do it, if only it is pointed out to me. Oh, sir, point it out to me!" cried the hypocrite, clasping her hands with a look of sincerity that might have deceived a London detective.
"My dear, can you possibly be in doubt as to what your duty is?" sorrowfully inquired the minister.
"Oh, my mind is all confused by this terrible event! I can not judge rationally. Ought I to keep silence and go away to some remote place and live in obscurity, dead to the world, so as never even by chance to interfere with their happiness, or to bring trouble on Miss Cavendish? I think, perhaps, he expects even that much from my devotion to him. Or ought I not to make way with myself altogether, for her sake? Would not a courageous suicide be justifiable, and even meritorious, under such, trying circumstances?"
"My child—my child, how wildly and sinfully you talk! Your brain is certainly touched by your troubles. You must not dream of doing any of the dreadful things you have mentioned. Your duty lies plainly before you. Will you have the courage to do it, if I point it out to you?"
"Oh, yes, I will—I will! It is all that is left me to do."
"Then your duty is to lodge information against that wretched man, so that he shall be arrested the moment he sets foot in the State."
"Oh, heaven of heavens! And ruin Emma Cavendish!" exclaimed the traitress, in well-simulated horror.
"And save Emma Cavendish from a life of involuntary degradation and misery. You must do this. To-morrow I will introduce you to a young lawyer of distinguished ability, who will give you legal advice even as I have given you religious counsel. And we will both confer together, so as to save you as much as possible from all painful share in the prosecution of this man."
"It isallpainful; all agonizing! But I think you and I will not shrink from our duty. Oh, could you ever have believed, without such proof as I have given you, that Mr. Alden Lytton could ever have been guilty of this crime?"
"Never! Never! And yet I know that men of exalted character have sometimes fallen very deeply into sin. Even David, 'the man after God's own heart,' took the wife of his devoted friend, and betrayed this faithful friend to a cruel death! Why should we wonder, then, at any man's fall? But, my child, I must ask you a question that I have been waiting to ask you all this time. Why did you not interfere to stop this felonious marriage before it took place? What timidity, what weakness, or what pride was it that restrained your hand from acting in time to prevent this fearful crime of Mr. Lytton, this awful wrong to Miss Cavendish, from being consummated?" gravely and sadly inquired the minister.
"Oh, sir, how can you ask me such a question? Do you suppose that if I had had the remotest suspicion of what was going on I should not have interfered and prevented it at all hazards—yes, even at the sacrifice of my own life, if that had been necessary?"
"You did not know of this beforehand then?"
"Why, certainly not!"
"Nor suspect it?"
"Assuredly not! I had not the least knowledge nor the faintest suspicion that anything of the sort was contemplatedby Mr. Lytton until after it was all over. The first I heard of it was from the Misses Crane, who wrote me at Forestville that Mr. and Mrs. Alden Lytton, the bride and bridegroom from Blue Cliffs, had called on me during my absence. The news, when it was confirmed, nearly killed me. But think of the insanity of their calling on me! But I know that was Emma's wish. And I feel sure that Mr. Lytton must have known of my absence from town or he never would have ventured to bring his deceived bride into my home."
"No, indeed; probably not. Well, my poor child, I have shown you your painful duty. See that you do not falter in it," said the rector, as he rose to take leave.
"I will not," answered Mary Grey.
"I will call at ten o'clock to-morrow morning to take you to Mr. Desmond's office."
"I will be ready."
And the minister took his leave.
Punctual to his appointment, the next morning at ten o'clock the rector called for Mary Grey and took her in his own carriage to the office of Philip Desmond, one of the most talented among the rising young barristers of Richmond.
Mr. Desmond enjoyed a high reputation not only as a professional man but as a private gentleman.
But he was the professional rival and the political opponent of Mr. Alden Lytton. They were always engaged on opposite sides of the same case; and on several important occasions Alden Lytton had gained a triumph over Philip Desmond.
He was, therefore, more astonished than grieved when the rector, after introducing Mary Grey under the name of Mrs. Alden Lytton, proceeded to confide to him, under the seal of temporary secrecy, the stupendous story of Alden Lytton's double marriage.
He expressed much amazement at the double treachery of the man, deep sympathy with the sorrows of the suffering and forsaken wife, and great indignation at the wrongs of the deceived and unhappy young lady.
He readily promised to co-operate with the minister in having the culprit brought speedily to justice.
"You, madam, of course, as his wife, can take no active part in the prosecution of this man. You can not even give testimony against him with your own voice. But you must appear in court, to be identified by the rector, the sexton and others who witnessed your marriage," said the lawyer, in taking leave of his visitors.
The rector took Mrs. Grey back to her boarding-house, and while she was gone upstairs to lay off her bonnet and shawl he told the Misses Crane that their interesting boarder had confided her trouble to him; that she had suffered the deepest wrong that any woman could be doomed to bear; but he could not explain more then; they would know all about it in a short time, when the wrongdoer should be brought to justice.
And having thus mystified the poor ladies, he further recommended Mary Grey to their tenderest sympathy and care.
And so he went home, leaving them in a state of greater bewilderment than ever.
Before Mr. and Mrs. Alden Lytton had left Blue Cliff Hall they had made arrangements for the complete renovation of that old ancestral seat, to be carried on under the supervision of the Rev. Mr. Lyle.
And they expressed their intention to purchase and send furniture from London and Paris to refit it.
But the works were scarcely commenced when they had to be suspended for a few days.
Another death had occurred in the family circle.
Dr. Beresford Jones, after a very pleasant evening spent at Blue Cliff Hall in company with Mrs. Fanning, Laura Lytton, his granddaughter, Electra, and his great favorite, Mr. Joseph Brent, arose, saying:
"I will now retire to bed, and I recommend you, Electra, my dear, to do the same, as we have to rise early to-morrow morning to set out on our return to Beresford Manors."
And he kissed her good-night, bowed to the other members of the circle, took up his taper and retired.
The next morning he went away indeed, but not to Beresford Manors.
For when Electra went into his room, as was her custom, to kiss him good-morning before he should get up, she found nothing but his body, still warm, and with the face still wearing the happy smile with which his spirit had impressed it in taking his heavenward flight.
Her screams desecrated the holy room of death and brought all the household to her presence.
When they discovered the cause of the girl's wild grief,Mrs. Fanning and Laura Lytton together forced her from the room and took her to her own chamber, where they set themselves to soothe her.
Joseph Brent, himself overcome with grief at the sudden loss of one who had proved himself so warm a friend, set out on horseback to Wendover to fetch the family physician and the minister.
They were useless to the departed, of course, but they might be of some service to the bereaved ones left behind.
So Mr. Lyle and Dr. Willet returned with Mr. Brent, and remained at Blue Cliff Hall until after all was over.
And thus it happened that within one fortnight there were two funerals at Blue Cliffs.
On the day after that upon which the remains of Beresford Jones were laid in the family vault his will was opened and read to his relatives.
With the exception of a few legacies left to friends and servants he bequeathed the whole of his real estate and personal property exclusively and unconditionally to his beloved granddaughter, Electra Coroni.
And he appointed his esteemed friends, Stephen Lyle and Joseph Brent, joint executors of the will, trustees of his estate, and guardians of his heiress.
And to each of these executors he left a legacy of ten thousand dollars.
Folded within the will was an informal letter addressed to his surviving friends, and requesting that no mourning should be worn for him, no wedding deferred, no innocent pleasure delayed on his account, for that death was only a higher step in life, and that which to him would be a great gain and glory must not seem to them a loss and gloom.
Electra, with her gusty nature, wept vehemently during the reading of this will and letter.
But there was one present who, though he betrayed no emotion, was much more deeply moved than any one present. This was Joseph Brent.
In being appointed guardian, trustee and executor of the will, he had just received from Dr. Beresford Jones the greatest proof of esteem and confidence that any one man could receive from another. And when he thought of this in connection with his own woful past he felt deeply disturbed.
After the reading of the will the assembled relatives dispersed from the room, leaving the two executors to converse together.
When Joseph Brent found himself alone with his friend Stephen Lyle he gave way to his feelings and said:
"My heart is full of compunction."
"Why?" gravely inquired Mr. Lyle.
"Because I should have confided in the dear old friend who put so much trust in me. I should have told him my whole miserable past history. And then, perhaps, he never would have given me so great a mark of his esteem. And Heaven knows I fully intended to tell him before asking him to accept me as a suitor of his granddaughter, even though it had cost me the loss of her who is dearer to me than life. But I put off the painful task, and now it is too late. And I feel as if I had obtained the honors he has conferred upon me by a fraud. No less!" said Joseph Brent, covering his face with his hands.
"My brother, you are morbid on this subject. Certainly you intended to tell him before asking to marry his granddaughter. And most certainly it would have been right for you to do so, had he remained among us. But he is gone. And you are free from blame. If you must tell any one tell the girl you love, and who loves and trusts you, for it is now no one's business but hers and yours. Or, rather, because you would never do yourself justice, let me tell her how, once a poor, motherless boy, left to himself, lost his way in the world and strayed even to the very brink of perdition. And how nobly since that he has, by the grace of Heaven, redeemed and consecrated his life. And then see if she will not place her hand in yours for good and all."
"You always comfort and strengthen me," said the young man, seizing and wringing the hand of his friend.
And then they consulted about the will of the late Dr. Jones, and the arrangements to be made with his estates and the disposition to be made of his heiress.
"We are her guardians," said Mr. Lyle; "but neither you nor I, being bachelors both, have a proper home to offer her. Nor will it be well for her to live at Beresford Manors, with no one but her colored servants. Mrs. Fanning has invited her to remain here for the present, and really this house seems to be the best place for her just now. But, after all, the decision must be left to herself, and she must choose her own home."
Mr. Brent agreed perfectly with the views of Mr. Lyle.
And later in the same afternoon they consulted the wishes of their young ward, who emphatically declared in favor of Blue Cliff Hall as her temporary home.
The next morning Mr. Lyle and Mr. Brent took leave of the ladies and returned to Wendover, where the Californian again became the inmate of the minister's home.
But both gentlemen continued to be frequent visitors at Blue Cliff Hall.
On the Monday following the funeral the work was recommenced on the old mansion and went rapidly on—the three ladies, Mrs. Fanning, Laura Lytton and Electra, moving from one part of the house to another as the improvements progressed.
Six weeks after this they received the first cargo of new furniture for the drawing-rooms, which were ready for it.
And as the work went on, from room to room, they received more furniture to fit them up.
At the end of three months the work was completed within and without.
And the fine old mansion, thoroughly remodeled and refurnished, presented as elegant and attractive an appearance as any modern palace in the whole country.
And then, when all was ready for the returning bride and bridegroom, Mrs. Fanning received a letter from them informing her that on the Saturday following the date of that letter they were to embark on board the steamship "Amazon," bound from Liverpool to New York, and they expected to be at Blue Cliffs two weeks from the day of embarkation.
Yes, the happy young pair were on their way home, unconscious of the horrible pitfall that had been dug to receive them!
What do you think of marriage?I take it as those who deny purgatory.It locally contains or heaven or hell:There is no third place in it.—Webster.
What do you think of marriage?I take it as those who deny purgatory.It locally contains or heaven or hell:There is no third place in it.—Webster.
What do you think of marriage?I take it as those who deny purgatory.It locally contains or heaven or hell:There is no third place in it.
—Webster.
It was a beautiful day near the last of May, and the scenery all around Blue Cliff Hall was glorious with sunshine, bloom and verdure.
A happy party of friends was assembled at the Hall that day for a double purpose—to meet the returning bridegroom and bride, who were expected to arrive that evening, and to assist at their wedding reception, which was to be further graced by two new bridals the next morning; for it had beenarranged by correspondence that Stephen Lyle and Laura Lytton and Joseph Brent and Electra Coroni should be married on that occasion.
All was ready: the house newly-restored, decorated and furnished, the rooms aired and adorned with flowers, and the wedding-breakfast laid out in the long dining-room.
The supper-table for the returning travelers was set in the small dining-room opening upon the garden of roses.
Carriages had been sent from the Hall early that morning to meet the travelers, who were expected to reach Wendover by the noon train from Richmond and to come direct to the Hall, so as to arrive in time for an early tea.
On the delightful porch in front of the house, that commanded a view of the carriage-drive and the forest road beyond, sat a pleasant group, enjoying the magnificent sunset of that mountain region, and watching the road or the first appearance of the carriage that was to bring home their beloved young friends.
This happy group was composed of Mrs. Fanning, Laura Lytton, Electra Coroni, Stephen Lyle and Joseph Brent.
"I hope they will arrive before the sun goes quite down. I should like them to come home in the sunshine," said Laura Lytton, looking anxiously at the glorious orb just then touching the horizon.
No one answered. All were watching the setting sun and listening for the sound of the carriage-wheels until a few moments had passed, and then Electra said, with a sigh:
"You will not get your wish then, for the sun is gone and they are not come."
"They are coming now, however. I hear the sound of their carriage-wheels," said Joseph Brent.
"Yes, indeed, for I see the carriage now," added Mr. Lyle, as the traveling-coach rolled rapidly in sight of the whole party and turned into the home drive.
A few moments more and the carriage drew up before the house, and Alden Lytton alighted and handed out his wife.
Another moment and Alden was in the arms of his sister and Emma on the bosom of Mrs. Fanning.
Hearty greetings, warm embraces ensued, and then they held off to look at each other.
Emma was more beautiful and Alden handsomer than ever.
"What a happy coming home!" said Emma, gratefully. "And you are all so well! And you are all here except those who are in heaven. Stay! I thinktheyalso are here tomeet us, though we do not see them! Come, let us enter the house."
"Let me show you to your rooms. No one shall be your 'groom of the chambers,' Mr. and Mrs. Alden Lytton, but myself," said Laura, playfully, as she led the way upstairs to the elegant apartments that had been prepared for the young master and mistress of the house.
"Come too, Electra. I do not wish to lose sight of you so soon, my child," said Emma, kindly, as they went along. "Is everything arranged satisfactorily to yourselves, my dears, and are you both ready to be married at the same time to-morrow?" she inquired, addressing her two companions.
"Why, of course!" smiled Laura.
Very early the next morning the whole household was happily astir.
The youthful family met at an early breakfast in the little dining-room, and then separated and went to their chambers to adorn themselves for the bridals.
A little later in the morning carriages containing guests bidden to the wedding began to arrive. The guests were received first by accomplished ushers, who took them to handsome and convenient dressing-rooms, in which they could put the last perfecting touches on their toilets, after which they were ushered into the long drawing-room, where they were received by Mr. and Mrs. Alden Lytton.
Emma was beautifully dressed for this occasion. She wore a rich white satin, with a point-lace overskirt, looped up with white roses sprinkled with small diamonds like dew. A wreath of the same flowers, bedewed in the same way, rested on her rich golden hair. A diamond necklace and bracelets adorned her bosom and arms. A delicate bouquet of white roses was held in her hand. Dainty gloves, and so forth, of course completed her toilet.
The two brides were dressed exactly alike, in long-trained, rich white silk dresses, with illusion overdresses and illusion veils, white orange-blossom wreaths, pearl necklaces and bracelets, and dainty white kid gloves, and carried delicate white lace handkerchiefs and white bouquets.
The bride-maids were all dressed in a uniform of white tarletan, trained, with overdresses of the same, rose-colored sashes and bows, and rose wreaths on their heads.
The bridegrooms wore the regulation "invisible blue" swallow-tailed coats and pantaloons, white satin vests, patent leather boots and kids. The groomsmen were got up in precisely the same ridiculous—I mean fashionable—style.
Now, reader, did you ever see a double marriage ceremony performed?
If not, I will tell you how this was done.
The first bride and groom were Mr. Lyle and Miss Lytton. They stood in the middle of the semicircle, immediately facing the bishop. The second bride and groom, Mr. Brent and Miss Coroni, stood on each side of them, Mr. Brent standing next to Mr. Lyle and Miss Coroni standing next to Miss Lytton. The six bride-maids, of course, completed the semicircle on the ladies' side and the six groomsmen on the gentlemen's.
The opening exhortation was made and the opening prayers were offered for both pairs together.
Then the momentous questions were put and answered, and the marriage vows were made, by each pair separately.
Each bride was given away in turn by Alden Lytton. Finally the concluding prayer was offered and the benediction pronounced upon both.
It was over.
Congratulations, tears, smiles and kisses followed. A half an hour in pleasant chatter, in which every one talked and no one listened, followed, and then the doors of the dining-room were thrown open and the company was invited in to the breakfast.
Three long tables stood parallel to each other, the whole length of the room, leaving only space to pass around them.
Each table was decorated with the most fragrant and beautiful flowers, adorned with the most elegant plate, china and glass, and loaded with every delicacy appropriate to the occasion.
But the middle table was distinguished by the "wedding-cake"par excellence—an elegant and beautiful piece of art, formed like a Grecian temple of Hymen, erected upon a rock, adorned with beautiful forms, birds, butterflies, flowers, and so forth.
This middle table was also honored with the presence of the brides and bridegrooms, with their attendants and immediate friends, and with that of the officiating bishop.
After the first course Mr. Lytton, who occupied a seat at the foot of this table, arose in his place and made the usual little speech, and proposed the health of both "happy pairs."
This was drunk with enthusiasm.
Then the health of the bride-maids was proposed and honored.
Mr. Brent proposed their accomplished host and hostess.And this toast was honored with an enthusiasm equal to that which had attended that of the brides and bridegrooms.
An hour, every moment of which was filled up with enjoyment, was spent at the table, and then the beautiful hostess, Mrs. Alden Lytton, gave the signal, and the ladies all arose and withdrew.
The two brides, accompanied by Emma, went upstairs to their rooms to change their bridal dresses for traveling-suits, for the two carriages were already waiting at the gates to convey them to Wendover, whence they were to take the train for Richmond,en routefor the North.
They were soon dressed in their pretty suits of soft, dove-colored silk, with hats and gloves of the same shade.
They went down to the drawing-room, still accompanied by Emma.
The gentlemen had just come in from the breakfast-table, and all the guests were assembled there to see the happy pairs off on their bridal tours.
Emma had left the room for a few minutes to give some orders.
Alden Lytton had just embraced his sister, and was holding the hand of his brother-in-law, wishing him all manner of happiness and prosperity, when the door opened and Jerome entered, saying:
"There's a gemman out here wants to see Mr. Lytton most partic'lar."
"Show him in," said Alden Lytton, smiling, and expecting to see some guest who had come too late for the wedding.
You have displaced the mirth, broke the good meetingWith most admired disorder.—Shakespeare.
You have displaced the mirth, broke the good meetingWith most admired disorder.—Shakespeare.
You have displaced the mirth, broke the good meetingWith most admired disorder.
—Shakespeare.
The servant left the room, and presently returned and ushered in a tall, stout, gray-haired man, whom all present recognized as Mr. John Bowlen, the deputy sheriff of the county.
The new-comer bowed to the assembled company and walked straight up to Alden Lytton, who advanced to meet him.
"You are Mr. Alden Lytton, I presume?" said the deputy-sheriff.
"Why, of course I am, Mr. Bowlen! You know that quite well, don't you?" smiled Alden.
"I thought I did; but I wished to be quite sure in a case like this. You are my prisoner, Mr. Alden Lytton," said the deputy-sheriff, so calmly and distinctly that every one in the room both heard and understood the strange words.
Yet no one uttered an exclamation of surprise. I think they were all too much stunned for that.
Alden Lytton simply stared in silent amazement at the officer, while others, including the two bridegrooms, gathered around him.
"What did you say just now? Perhaps I did not hear you aright," inquired Alden, elevating his eyebrows, for there was something that struck him as unreal, ludicrous and bordering upon the burlesque in the whole situation.
"I said that you were my prisoner, Mr. Alden Lytton," answered the deputy-sheriff, gravely. "I repeat that you are my prisoner."
"Prisoner!" echoed a score of voices, giving expression at length to their amazement.
"Yes, ladies and gentlemen, he is my prisoner. I think I spoke plainly enough; and I hope I shall have no trouble in making the arrest," answered the deputy-sheriff, who, if he were not behaving very rudely, was certainly not doing his duty very courteously.
"Upon what charge, I pray you, am I to be arrested?" inquired Mr. Lytton, sarcastically, still inclined to treat the whole matter as a very bad practical joke.
"You may read the warrant, sir," answered the officer, unfolding a document and placing it in the hands of Alden Lytton, who, with some anger and curiosity, but no anxiety, began to read it.
"What is the matter? What does this person want here?" inquired Emma, in surprise, as she entered the room, came up to the group and saw the intruder.
"He has some business with me, my love," answered her husband, controlling himself with a great effort, as he read the shameful charges embodied in the warrant commanding his arrest. Then, still speaking with forced calmness, he said to the deputy-sheriff:
"I will go with you first into the library, Mr. Bowlen, where we can talk over this matter with my friends."
And turning to the two bridegrooms he inquired:
"Can you give me a few minutes with this officer in the library?"
"Certainly," answered Mr. Lyle and Mr. Brent, in one voice.
"Ladies, you will excuse us for a few minutes?" inquired Mr. Lytton, smiling around upon the group.
"Certainly," answered two or three ladies, speaking for the whole party.
"Follow me, if you please, gentlemen," said Alden Lytton, as he led the way to the library.
There the four men—Mr. Lytton, Mr. Lyle, Mr. Brent and the sheriff—stood around a small table, all with anxious and some with questioning looks.
"Read that and tell me what you think of it," said Mr. Lytton, placing the warrant for his arrest in the hands of Mr. Lyle.
"Think of it? I think it at once the falsest, basest and most absurd charge that ever was made against an honorable man!" exclaimed Mr. Lyle, in righteous indignation, as he threw the document on the table.
"It is all a diabolical conspiracy!" added Joseph Brent, who had read the warrant over the shoulder of his friend.
"It can not stand investigation for one moment," said Stephen Lyle.
"And the wretches who got this up should be severely punished!" exclaimed Joseph Brent.
"Most severely!" added Stephen Lyle.
"But what show of foundation could they have had for such a charge? The warrant accuses you of having 'feloniously intermarried with one Emma Angela Cavendish in and during the lifetime of your lawful wife, Mary Lytton, now living in this State!' Now, who the very mischief is this Mary who claims to be Lytton? Oh, Alden, my son, whathaveyou been up to?" inquired Joseph Brent, half in mockery and half in real anxiety.
"Whatever else I may have been 'up to,' I certainly never have been 'up to' marrying two wives at one time," answered Alden, in the same spirit of half banter, half protest.
"But who is this Mary, self-styled Lytton?"
"I know no more than the dead!"
"But are you sure you never had a slight flirtation with, or a platonic affinity for, a Mary or anybody else?"
"Never! Nor do I even know a single 'Mary' in this world, except—"
"Oh, yes!—except whom—except whom?"
"Mrs. Mary Grey," answered Alden, gravely, and with a certain new disturbance in his manner that had not been there before.
Mr. Lyle brought his hand down upon the table with an emphatic thump.
"That is the woman!" he said, with an air of entire conviction. "But surely you never fell under her baleful spell?"
"Ah, who that ever knew her has not fallen under that baleful spell? But for the last two years I have been entirely disillusioned," answered Alden.
"Come, gentlemen, I am sorry to hurry you; but really," said Sheriff Bowlen, taking out his watch, "it is now two o'clock, and we must get on to Wendover."
"Very well," answered Alden Lytton, coldly. Then turning to Mr. Brent and Mr. Lyle he said: "And you, my friends, must be getting on, too, or you will lose your train. And then what will become of your bridal trips?"
"I do not care what may become ofmybridal trip! I mean to see you safe through this abominable conspiracy—for a conspiracy it certainly is, whoever may be the conspirators!" said Joseph Brent, emphatically.
"Pooh—pooh! Some very shallow piece of malice, or some very poor practical joke upon me or the magistrate! The wonder is, however, that any magistrate could be found to issue such a warrant as this," said Alden Lytton, making light of a matter which he thought the slightest investigation must soon set right.
In the meantime Joseph Brent and Stephen Lyle spoke apart for a few minutes, and then came to Alden Lytton and said:
"Look here; we are going with you to the magistrate's office. We are determined to see this matter through. It may be a trifle or it may not."
"And how about the two pretty girls who are waiting, with their hats on, to be taken on their wedding tours?"
"They can wait. A few hours, which must decide this, can make but little difference to them. Your lovely lady will give them house-room to-day," said Mr. Lyle.
As Alden Lytton was about to reply, urging his friends not to delay their journey on his account, he caught sight of Emma standing in the hall, just outside the library door.
Her face was pale with anguish, and her hands were clasped tightly together, as she said:
"Alden—Alden! Oh, Alden, come to me for one moment!"
"Let me go and speak to my wife. I will not run away," said Mr. Lytton, sarcastically, to the deputy, who was close upon his heels.
And he went up to Emma and said, cheerfully:
"Do not be alarmed, love; there is nothing to fear."
"Oh, Alden, dearest,what is it? They are talking about a warrant and an arrest in there. It is not true—oh, it can not be true!" said the young wife, a little incoherently.
"There is some mistake, my love, which would be simply ludicrous if it were not so annoying. I must go to Wendover and set it all right," replied Mr. Lytton, cheerfully.
"Are you certain it is nothing more than a mistake?"
"Nothing more than a mistake or a jest, dear love. But I must go to Wendover to set it right."
"But what sort of a mistake is it? What is it all about?"
"I will explain it all when I come back, my wife. I do not quite comprehend it yet."
"How soon will you be back?"
"As soon as ever this matter shall be explained—in time for tea, if possible. Mr. Lyle and Mr. Brent are going with me. You will take care of the girls during the few hours' delay in their journey. There, love, return to your guests and let me go. This officer is growing impatient."
While Alden Lytton was trying to soothe the anxiety of his wife, Mr. Brent and Mr. Lyle had crossed to the drawing-room to explain to their brides that an unexpected event had occurred which would delay their journey for a few hours, during which they would remain as the guests of Mrs. Alden Lytton.
And before the young ladies could make a comment the deputy-sheriff, with Alden Lytton in custody, passed out.
Then Stephen Lyle and Joseph Brent hurried out and entered the same carriage occupied by Alden Lytton and the sheriff.
During the drive to Wendover the three gentlemen tried to learn from the sheriff more particulars concerning the charges made against Mr. Alden Lytton.
But the sheriff knew little or nothing concerning those charges beyond what was embodied in the warrant that authorized the arrest.