AFTER THE WICKED WEDDING.
"And I no friends to back my cause withal,
But the plain devil and dissembling looks.
I have him, but I will not keep him long."
"Did you tell the coachman where to drive?" inquired the bride, as the carriage rolled rapidly through one of the principal streets of the city.
"Yes, dearest," answered the infatuated bridegroom. "I told him to drive to the Asterick, where I am stopping, and where I have had elegant rooms prepared for your reception. Do you think I could have forgotten anything in which your comfort was concerned?"
"No, I am sure you could not; but—" She hesitated a moment, and then added: "I wanted to go somewhere else."
"My love—my love, you shall go where you please. After we have got to our rooms at the Asterick, and refreshed and rested ourselves, we will consult about where to go and spend a pleasant fortnight together," he answered, affectionately.
"Yes; but I don't want to go to the Asterick just yet."
"Where then? I will go anywhere you wish."
"You know I did not come to this city alone."
"Didn't you, dear? I thought you did."
"No; I came with a party of lady friends. And I left them all abruptly this morning to meet you, without telling them where I was going or when I should be back. I have now been gone two hours. They will be uneasy about me by this time. I must go back there and relieve their anxiety, and also get my traveling-bag."
"Very well, my darling, we will drive there immediately."
"No, no; you must not go there! I have not told them anything about my intended marriage, so I don't want them to know anything about it, lest they should be offended. There is a reading-room at the corner of the street near the hotel. Stop there, and I will get out and walk to the house and take leave of my friends, and then return to the reading-room and join you. In the meantime you can send the carriage away, and while waiting for me you can amuse yourself looking over the books."
"But I hate to lose you even for an hour."
"Ah, be reasonable, and remember that it will be but for an hour or less time. And when we meet again it will be to part no more forever—or until death himself shall part us."
"I must submit, I suppose," said Craven, with a sigh.
"Submit? Oh, you crazy boy! You talk as if you were making some painful sacrifice!" she answered, with a light laugh.
"It is painful to let you leave me even for an hour."
"Bah! You'll be glad to be rid of me some of these days."
"Never!"
"Bah, I say again! Come, here we are at the reading-room. Stop the carriage."
He did so.
"Let me out here and I will walk on," she said.
"Had you not better let me get out here, and keep your own seat and drive on?" he inquired.
"No. I don't want the carriage to take me to the hotel. The distance is short. I prefer walking. You had better dismiss it, and go into the reading-room and amuse yourself while waiting for me," she said.
He acquiesced, and she got out and walked rapidly on toward the Blank House.
With her thick veil let down, she slipped in through the ladies' entrance with some visitors that just happened to be going there.
She hurried upstairs to her own rooms and unlocked the door of the private parlor.
All within the place was just as she had left it two hours before.
She opened the window-shutters to let in the daylight, and then she went and listened at the door communicating with Alden Lytton's room.
At first all was still. But presently she heard a step about the room, and soon after other motions that proved the inmate to be busy at his toilet.
"He is up and dressing himself. I have not returned one minute too soon," she said, as she seated herself in an easy-chair near the window.
The next moment the door opened and Alden Lytton entered, smiling.
"I do not know how to apologize for my stupid neglect. But I hope you will believe me when I assure you it was inadvertent. The truth is I overslept myself. I can't think what made me do it," he said, actually blushing like a boy at the thought of his involuntary sluggishness.
"You were very much fatigued last night. I am very glad you had a refreshing sleep. I hope you feel the better for it," she answered, with her sweet smile.
"Well, no; not much better. You know there is such a thing as taking too much sleep. I feel quite as if I had taken twice too much—dull and heavy, with a stupid headache. I never was inebriated in my life, but I should think a man that had been so, over night, would feel just as I do this morning."
"Ah, I am sorry! But the fresh air will do you good, no doubt."
"No doubt. And really it is not worth speaking of. I see you have your hat on. You have been taking a walk this fine morning, while I lay like a sluggard, sleeping myself into a headache?"
"No, I have not been out. I put my hat on merely to be ready to start the moment we had breakfasted. For I must go and see the principal of the ladies' school this morning."
"Why, I hope you have not waited breakfast for me all this time!" exclaimed Alden, in a tone of regret.
"I have not waited very long. And if I must confess the fault, I have not been up very long myself."
"Ah!" laughed Alden Lytton. "So somebody else overslept herself!"
"Yes; ''tis true, 'tis pity, and pity 'tis 'tis true!'"
"You must be hungry, however. I will ring and order breakfast directly."
"No, please don't. It will take too much time. For once we will go down in the dining-room and get our breakfast."
"As you please," said Alden Lytton, as he arose to attend her down-stairs.
The guests had nearly all left the dining-room, so there were waiters enough at leisure to attend to these late arrivals; and it followed, of course, that they had not long to wait for their coffee and rolls.
They did not tarry over their meal. Both were in a hurry.
"I should have been at the law publisher's two hours ago," said Alden.
"And I should have been at the ladies' school about the same time," added Mary.
"I shall never forgive myself for sleeping so ridiculously long and detaining you," said Alden.
"Say no more about it. We shall only have to hurry over our breakfast to make up for lost time," answered the traitress.
And they soon finished and arose from the table.
"Will you be so good as to order a carriage for me while I run upstairs and get my traveling-bag?" she inquired.
"Certainly," he answered, as he gave her his arm and led her to the foot of the grand staircase.
And as she ran up, he turned and sent a hall porter for the carriage.
And then he waited at the foot of the stairs for her return.
The carriage was announced, and she reappeared about the same time.
She carried in her hand a leather bag and a small silk umbrella, both of which she handed to a porter.
"This looks like a departure," said Alden Lytton, as he gave her his arm to lead her to the carriage.
"It may be a departure," she answered; "and I must take this, perhaps last, opportunity of thanking you for all your brotherly kindness to me. If I should not return by six o'clock this evening, please give up my room."
"I will do so," said Alden Lytton. "And in that case I also shall give up my room, for I think I shall be able to get through with my business to-day. If you should be returning to Virginia I should be pleased to escort you back."
"Thanks! But I rather think that I shall try the school. That will do. I am very comfortable. Thanks, very much!" she added, as she settled herself in the seat where he had placed her.
"Where shall I tell the coachman to drive?" inquired Alden.
"Tell him to call first at the reading-room at the corner of the next street. I wish to look at the directory there before going further."
This order was given to the coachman, who immediately started his horses.
In a very few minutes the carriage drew up before the reading-room door.
Mary Grey—as I still prefer to call her—got out and ran into the room.
Craven Kyte was there, trying to interest himself in a morning paper. As soon as he saw her he dropped the paper and started to meet her.
"It seems to me you have been gone four hours instead of one," he said.
"I have been gone just an hour and seven minutes, you very bad boy!" she answered, playfully. "Now, then, I am at your lordship's service."
"Oh, my beloved, do not speak so to me, even in sport, for you are my queen and I am your subject! Shall we go now?"
"Yes, I have a carriage at the door, with my little luggage in it."
"Come then, love."
They went out together and entered the carriage.
"Drive to the Asterick Hotel," said Craven Kyte to the coachman.
"And tell him to drive slowly, for I wish to talk to you as we go along," she whispered.
"Drive slowly," said Mr. Kyte, giving her order.
"Now, Craven, dear," she said, as they went along, "I wish you to understand that I don't want to stop at the Asterick longer than it will take you to pay your bill and pack your portmanteau."
"Where do you want to go then, my darling? I am ready to go anywhere with you," he replied.
"Then I have a fancy for spending a few days at Havre-de-Grace. It is a very pretty place. We can take the next train and get there in two or three hours."
"Very well, my angel, I will make every effort to catch that train."
"Now, then, tell the coachman to drive fast."
Again Craven Kyte conveyed her orders to the man on the box, who touched up his horses.
And they were whirled rapidly on toward the Asterick Hotel, where they soon arrived.
"Hadn't I better tell the carriage to wait?" inquired Craven Kyte.
"No; send it away. We can pick up another one in a moment," answered his companion.
Craven Kyte paid and discharged the carriage, and they went into the house.
He took his companion up into the private parlor he had engaged for her, and he pressed her to partake of some refreshments while he packed up his portmanteau and paid his bill.
But she declined the refreshments and said she would wait, keeping herself closely veiled all the time.
He hurried through his business as fast as he could, and soon rejoined her.
He took her down to the cab he had engaged, and which was already packed with their luggage.
A half-hour's rapid drive took them to the railway station, which they reached only in time to buy their tickets, check their baggage and take their seats before the train started.
It was the express. And they were soon whirled through the country to the town where the bride chose to spend her honeymoon.