Rachel had given her "troth" to her husband, and he was putting the ring that was the sign and seal of it—the token and pledge of the solemn vow and covenant betwixt them made—upon her finger.
When the breakfast was over, that domestic pendant to the religious ceremony having "gone off" with great success, Mrs. Kingston, in due course, retired to put on her travelling dress.
The bridesmaids proper were dispensed with at this stage, and the two married cousins went upstairs with the bride.
It was Beatrice now who was tender and caressing; Lucilla, who did not see very far below the surface of anything, and was delighted with the pomp and circumstance of this new alliance in the family, and charmed, like all happy matrons, to welcome a new comer into the matrimonial ranks, overflowed with unwonted gaiety.
"Now we are all married!" she exclaimed, sinking upon a sofa in Rachel's room, and looking very fair and young—as if marriage had thoroughly agreed with her—in a pale blue French dress of the highest fashion. "And we have all married so well, haven't we? And we have all got such good husbands. Oh, how nice it will be when Rachel and Laura come back and begin housekeeping! John is going to let me have a house in town, too, as soon as Isabel and Bruce come home, so that we shall be down for part of the year; and then what a cosy little family circle we shall make! But Rachel will be at the head of us all. Ah, dear child, you will know now how nice it is to be a married woman—to have your own husband with you always—such a delightful, attentive husband, too, as I know he will be—and your own home—such a beautiful home——"
"You lock up her diamonds, Lucilla," Mrs. Reade interrupted, handing the starry necklace to her sister. "And, Rachel, dear, don't stand and tire yourself. Sit down, and let me dress you."
Rachel, when her bridal lace and satin had been taken off, sat down to be sponged and brushed, and to have her travelling boots laced up.
Beatrice performed her lady's-maid offices in silence, while Lucilla handed her what she wanted, and pleasantly chatted on; and when all was done, and the bride, in russet homespun, was ready for her departure, there were a few words whispered that Mrs. Thornley did not hear.
"My darling, you said you would try."
"Yes, Beatrice, dear; yes, I am trying."