A Noble Woman

by Ann S. Stephens

There was a slight commotion at the door, followed by the soft rustling of silks and turning of heads. Then a gentleman of noble presence, calm and self-possessed, as if he were quite unconscious of all the eyes bent upon him, came slowly up the broad aisle with the object of all this conversation leaning on his arm.

Certainly the bride gave no evidence of her low estate in that rustling white silk, which shone like crusted snow through a sheen of tulle; or in the veil of Brussels lace that fell around her like a fabric of cobwebs overrun with frostwork. You could detect intense emotion from the shiver of the clematis spray, mingled with snowy roses, in her black hair; but otherwise she seemed quiet and remarkably self-sustained.

Following close upon this noble pair, came a tall, loose-jointed young man, glowing with pride of the lovely creature on his arm; and, really, any thing more beautiful, in a material sense, could not well be imagined than that youthful bridesmaid. Like the stately girl who had passed before her, she moved in a cloud of shimmering white, with just enough of blue in the golden hair and on the bosom to match the violet of her eyes.

Once or twice Tom Fuller missed step as they were going up the aisle, when Elsie would make a pause, look ruefully at her gossamer skirts, and only seem relieved when her partner stumbled into place again. Then she followed the bride, her cheeks one glow of roses and smiles dimpling her fresh, young mouth, as if she were the Queen of May approaching her throne.

The bridal-pair knelt at the altar, and a solemn stillness fell upon that brilliant multitude as the vows which were to unite that man and woman for all time were uttered. Even Elsie looked on with shadowy sadness in her eyes; as for Tom—the noble-hearted fellow made a fool of himself of course, and was compelled to shake the tears surreptitiously from his eyes, before he dared to look up from the long survey he had been taking of his patent-leather boots.

It is almost frightful to remember how few moments it takes to bind immortal souls together in a union which may be for happiness, and, alas, may be for such misery as eternal bondage alone can give.

The feeling of awe befitting that sacred place had scarcely settled on the gay assembly, when the altar was deserted, and Grantley Mellen led his wife out of the church. Agitation had brought a faint glow of color to her cheek, softened the mouth into its sweetest smile, and whenever the clear gray eyes were lifted, one could see the timid, shrinking happiness, which made their depths so misty and dark.

Grantley Mellen was a proud, somewhat stern man, and at the church-door he betrayed, in spite of himself, some annoyance at the eclat which Mrs. Harrington had given to the affair, in spite of his express wishes. But whenever he looked at the lovely girl at his side, or felt the clinging touch of her hand upon his arm, his face cleared and softened into an expression of such tenderness as changed its entire character.

Elsie followed close, dexterously keeping her dress from under Tom's feet; indeed, she looked so lovely and fairy-like, that it made the awkwardness and embarrassment of her great, honest-hearted companion more apparent.

Tom Fuller knew that he appeared dreadfully out of place playing a part at this imposing ceremony, but he had never in all his life refused a request that Elizabeth made, and during the last three months, the mischievous sprite by his side had kept his blundering head in a state of such constant bewilderment, and so stirred every chord in his great, manly heart, that he would not have minded in the least stumbling over red hot ploughshares for the pleasure of walking with her even the length of a church aisle.