It was not until nearly midnight that we had finished my wedding garment; and when I retired to rest, I did so with a fluttering heart; and laying my head on my pillow, I said to myself—“Ah! poor Caroline! fond, foolish girl, what a plunge art thou about to make into the Book of Fate! To-morrow!—to-morrow!”
The occurrences of that day I will reserve for another chapter.
My moral reflections after writing the above.—How beautifully fitting an emblem and becoming an ornament is the orange-flower for the virgin bride! For does not its milky purity tell long—long tales of the snow-like affection of the generous maiden who is about to give away her heart to one whose love she has yet to try? Is it not the silver blossom of a tree that bears rich and golden fruit? And is it not left to man to say whether, by casting on the virgin bud the sunshine of his smiles, he shall ripen it into sweetness; or, by withholding them, she shall remain sour after her green youth has passed away? But, ah! how many a tender young wife, who at the altar sighs that her budding hopes may grow into the sweet fruit of St. Michael, finds them, in the end, alas! only converted into the bitter ones of Seville.
CHAPTER II.
OF MY WEDDING, AND MY GETTING “SETTLED.”
“I wore my bridal robe,
And I rivalled its whiteness;
Bright gems were in my hair;
How I hated their brightness!”
“We Met.”—Haynes Bayly.
The morrow came, and any one who could have beheld my downcast looks, and heard the sighs that came from the very bottom of my heart, would little have fancied that I was so near that interesting period of a maiden existence, which is erroneously styled the happiest moment of her life.
My mamma was good enough to say that my bridal robe fitted me admirably; remarking that, perhaps, it would have looked richer had the skirt been a trifle more full. Edward had presented me with a splendid Nottingham-lace veil to throw over my head on this occasion, and a superb “Berthe” to match. But in my then state of mind, I looked upon these articles as gaudy nothings, attaching a value to them merely as being the gifts of my bosom’s lord.
My mamma tried in vain to console me. She told me that I had nothing to fear about entering into life, and begged of me to summon up all my inward woman, to give me strength to go through with it. Had she not, she asked me, prevailed upon Edward to leave his old dwelling, and take a pretty little cottage for me in P—rk V—ll—ge, R—g—nt’s P—rk, so that she might always be near to me and him. And she assured me, in a gentle way, that I need not be alarmed, on account of my youthful inexperience, as she would make it a duty to superintend all my domestic arrangements until I got in the way of managing them myself; which, with my natural abilities, she fondly said, would not take me long. And she further told me that, as a start in life, she had a little surprise for me; for she had determined, that in addition to some of her best pickles and preserves, with which she intended to stock my store-room, before my return from the honeymoon, she purposed presenting me with two bottles of her celebrated cherry brandy, which she declared she would not have parted with to any one but her own flesh and blood—although her friends were always welcome to come and taste it whenever they pleased—that she alone knew the true way of making it—and that she was determined the secret should die with her. And, moreover, she said, that as, after the advice she had given me over-night, I could easily perceive how necessary it was for a young wife to have proper people about her, she would kindly relieve me of any anxiety I might feel in suiting myself with my first servant, by finding me, during my short absence from town, such a one as she, from her knowledge of these matters, would answer for proving quite a treasure. I thanked her with only a sorry smile, being at such a time unable to appreciate her goodness, for my thoughts were far—far away.
At a little after 10, the two Misses B—yl—s, whom I had selected for my bridemaids, and who are carriage people, drove up to the door in their papa’s sweet little pony phaeton. Having taken off their cloaks, and changed their bonnets for the white chip ones they had brought with them in a band-box, they looked truly charming; for they are dear, good, showy girls, and were dressed in some elegant robes of book muslin, trimmed with peach-blossom, and carry themselves divinely.
When Edward arrived, I thought I never saw him look better. His hair had been beautifully curled, and he wore the blue coat, and the white trousers of plighted affection; and when he presented me with a charming bouquet, for the first time in my life, I felt the language of flowers.