"I am at your side, and there's nae bride nor bridegroom o' a day half as much to each other as you are to me and I to you. And if this warld fails, it is not the only warld." And they looked lovingly at each other and were silent and satisfied.
In the meantime the little wedding party had gathered at the altar of St. Paul's Chapel: Neil, who gave away Maria, Madame Jacobus and her friend Counselor Van Ahrens; Lord Medway with Sir Francis Lauve and his sister Miss Estelle Lauve, members of an English family with whom he had been familiar. The chaplain was waiting when the bride arrived, and the words that made her Lord Medway's wife were solemnly said. There was no music, no flowers, no bells, no theatrical effects of any kind, but the simple, grand words of resignation and consecration had all the serious joy and sacred character of a happy religious rite, and every heart felt that nothing could have been more satisfactory. Maria wore the dark cloth dress and long coat she intended to travel in, and as she knelt bareheaded at the altar, Madame Jacobus held the pretty head-covering that matched it. So that as soon as the registry had been made in the vestry, she bid farewell to all her friends, and with a look of adorable love and confidence placed her hand in her husband's.
He was so happy that he was speechless, and he feared a moment's delay. Until he had Maria safely on board the "Dolphin," he could not feel certain of her possession. The suspense made him silent and nervous; he could only look at his bride and clasp her hands, until she had passed safely through the crowded streets and was securely in the cabin of the waiting ship. Then, with the wind in her sails and the sunshine on her white deck, the "Dolphin" went swiftly out to sea.
But not until the low-lying land was quite lost to sight was Lord Medway completely satisfied. Then he suffered the rapture in his heart to find words. He folded Maria in her furs, and clasped her close to his side, and as the daylight faded and the stars shone out upon her lovely face, he told her a thousand times over, how dear, how sweet, how beautiful she was!
Ah! Youth is sweet! and Life is dear to Love and Youth; and these two were supremely happy while whole days long they talked of their past and their future. And though the journey lasted their honeymoon out, they were not sorry. They were going to be in London for the Christmas feast, and Medway remembered that he had promised Mr. Semple to "bring Lady Medway home before the New Year," and he was pleased to redeem his word.
"For I liked your father, Maria," he said. "He seemed to me one of the finest gentlemen I ever met, and——"
"My stepmother is a lady also," Maria answered, "one of the Norfolk Spencers; and many women would have been worse to me than she was. Sometimes I was in the wrong too."
"They must keep Christmas with us. Christmas in our own home! Maria, you hold me by my heart. Sweet, say what you wish, and you shall have it." And indeed it would be impossible to express in written words a tithe of the great content they had. For all their hopes and plans and dreams of future happiness were
"but Ministers of Love
And fed his sacred flame,"
and the bliss so long afar, at length so nigh, rested in the great peace of its attainment.