CHAPTER I.
An she shall walk in silken tire
And siller hae to spare.
Scottish Song.
“No, no, Lowndes,” answered Mr. Gilmer, in reply to some question which the former had made his friend touching the accomplishments of his bride elect. “No, no: you will find Miss Vivian very different probably from what you expect. Men at my age, who know the world, know that talents and accomplishments are not the first qualities to seek in a wife. Freshness of heart and mind, naïveté and disinterestedness are the charms that we prize as we grow older, for they alone, springing from the heart, can insure us happiness. No, you will not find Miss Vivian accomplished to any high degree. Her extreme youth precludes that. But what music or language can equal the melody and eloquence that speak in a young voice fresh from a warm heart! Of disinterested affection, one can feel sure in a creature so young; and the pleasure of cultivating a heart and mind all your own, of feeling that every flower that springs there is of your own planting, is worth more to my taste than the utmost perfection of acquirements ready made to the hand.”
Mr. Lowndes, who was also mature in the world’s ways, was somewhat amused at his friend’s warmth, while he smiled as he thought of the disinterestedness that leads sixteen to wed with forty-two, and he said,
“The lady is beautiful, no doubt. For with all your philosophic knowledge of the world, Gilmer, I doubt whether you would appreciate so highly the charms of a youthful mind were they not united to the loveliness of a youthful person.”
Gilmer replied with a smile,
“I think you will find she does credit to my taste. You must let me introduce you;” and the friends having agreed to call at Mrs. Vivian’s for that purpose in the evening, separated; Gilmer pitying Lowndes’ forlorn state as an old bachelor, while Lowndes could not but be amused to see his friend so enthusiastic in a folly he had often ridiculed in others.
Mr. Gilmer, at forty-two, knew the world as he said; and what is more, the world knew him; and having run a gay career, to settle in a grave and polished middle age, he would now renew life, and start afresh for the goal of happiness; deeming himself, old worldling that he was, a fit match for bright sixteen, and a natural recipient for the first warm affections of that happy age.
But is time to be so cheated? Let us see.
“Look!” cried the little bride elect, “is not this beautiful?” showing her mother an exquisite cadeau from her lover. “Oh, mamma,” added she, clasping her little hands in an ecstasy, “how he will dress one!”
“Yes, my love,” said her mother tenderly, “it is beautiful, indeed. How very attentive and kind in Mr. Gilmer to remember that passing wish of yours.”
“Oh yes! and what perfect taste too he has,” continued the little lady, evidently much more intent upon her present than her lover; and so she flew to her aunt to show the rich present she had just received. Miss Lawrence, a younger sister of her mother, who resided with them, had been absent when this engagement took place; and having examined and admired the jewel to the satisfaction of her niece, said,
“I am quite anxious to see this Mr. Gilmer of yours, Charlotte.”
“Are you? Well, he will be here this evening, I suppose; and I dare say you will like him. He likes all those sensible, dull books that you and mamma are so fond of. He’ll just suit you.”
“I hope,” replied her aunt, smiling, “he suits you too.”
“Yes,” she answered, with a little hesitation, “only he is too grave and sensible: but then he’s old, you know,” she added with a serious look.
“Old!” replied Miss Lawrence, “what do you call old?”
“Oh, I don’t know; thirty, or forty, or fifty, I don’t know exactly; but he must be quite as old as mamma, maybe older: but,” added she, with more animation, “I shall have the prettiest phaeton, with the dearest little pair of black ponies you ever saw, just to drive when I shop, you know, and an elegant chariot to pay visits; and I mean to give so many parties and a fancy ball regularly every winter;” and she continued dwelling on her anticipated gaieties to the utter exclusion, in all her plans, of husband or lover, to the surprise and amusement, not unmixed with anxiety, of her aunt, who soon began to perceive that her niece’s young brain was dizzy with the prospect of splendors and gaieties that her mother’s limited income denied her, while her heart was as untouched by any deeper emotion as one might naturally have expected from her joyous, unthinking, careless age. She was dazzled by Mr. Gilmer’s fortune and flattered by his attentions, for he was distingué in society; but love she deemed out of the question with a man as old as her mother; and she was right. It was out of the question with a girl young enough to be his daughter; for however age may admire youth, there is nothing captivating to youth in age. His fine mind, cultivated tastes and elegant manners were lost upon one whose youth and ignorance precluded her appreciating qualities she did not comprehend; and she only looked forward to her marriage as the first act in a brilliant drama in which she was to play the principal part.
“Are you quite satisfied, sister, with this engagement of Charlotte’s?” asked Miss Lawrence, with some anxiety.
“Perfectly,” replied Mrs. Vivian, “more than satisfied. Mr. Gilmer’s fortune and station are all I could ask. He is a man of sense and a gentleman. What more could I desire?”
“He is that, certainly,” replied her sister, “but I confess I wish that the disparity of years between them was less.”
“I am not sure that I do,” answered Mrs. Vivian. “His age gives me a security for his character that I could not have otherwise. And the younger the wife the greater the idol generally. Charlotte has been too much of an indulged and spoiled child, if you will, to humor and support the caprices of a young man, and I had rather she were an ‘old man’s darling than a young man’s slave.’ ”
“If she were compelled to either alternative,” said Miss Lawrence.
“Beside,” continued Mrs. Vivian, scarce hearing her sister’s interruption, “his fortune is immense; and the certainty that she will always be encompassed by every luxury wealth can procure is to me an unspeakable comfort. You cannot know, Ellen, with what idolatry a mother loves an only child, nor can you, therefore, comprehend how anxiously I would guard her from every trial or privation that could beset her path in life. My income is so small that with me she must suffer many privations both as to pleasures and comforts that will now be showered upon her with a liberal hand; and I own I anticipate her marriage with as much happiness as a mother can look forward to a separation from her only child.”
And now the preparations were rapidly making for the marriage, and every day brought some new finery to deck the pretty bride, who was in one continued ecstasy at every fresh importation; and when the wedding-day arrived and brought with it a corbeille from Mr. Gilmer, which, when opened, disclosed a bouquet of sixteen white camellias, and underneath the bridal veil of costliest lace, with other elegancies too numerous to mention, she fairly danced in her childish glee as she threw the veil over her head and flew to the mirror; and the only shadow or doubt that crossed her fair young face that day, was lest Martille, that most faithless of coiffeurs, should disappoint her in the evening.
The veil is at last arranged, with its orange buds and blossoms, and as the sparkling, white dress floats around her airy figure, a prettier, brighter, more graceful creature has rarely glanced across this world than that beauteous young bride; and Mr. Gilmer as he stood beside her, high-bred, grave and middle-aged, looked better fitted to perform the part of father than of groom.
As his friend Mr. Lowndes gazed upon the flashing eyes and glowing cheeks of the young beauty, and heard the merry tones of her childish voice, and then glanced round at the small rooms and plain furniture of her mother’s house, he perfectly comprehended the infatuation of his friend and the motives of his bride.
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