The following morning Mr. Brownlow arrived, and was hospitably entertained by Mrs. Hicks. To his immense surprise, the wire which summoned him, had invited him not only to visit a sick friend, but to prepare for the solemnization of a marriage, and his amazement was not lessened, when informed that Travers' little Nancy was to be the bride!
A lengthy interview with the dying man was interrupted by Mrs. Hicks, who entered the drawing-room, bearing in either hand a large vase of white lilies—a signal for the wedding ceremony. Presently Mayne appeared in his Sunday suit, prayer-book in hand, followed by Dr. Hicks, Ted Dawson, and, by special desire, Francis, a Catholic. The last to arrive was Nancy wearing a fresh white linen frock. Then the doors were closed, and after a little confidential discussion, and whispering, the ceremony commenced.
The couple about to be married, took their places before Mr. Brownlow,—who used an old prie-dieu as desk.—Nancy stood as close as possible to her father, who, at the question, "Who giveth this woman to be married to this man?" in a firm, loud voice, answered, "I do."
Accordingly "Eleanora Nancy" was married (with her mother's wedding-ring) to "Derek Danvers Mayne." The bridegroom appeared grave and anxious, the bride looked like an automaton, going through a mechanical performance, for which she had been carefully wound up.
When the Service was ended, the certificate duly signed, and witnessed, there was a celebration of the Holy Communion, and the little gathering retired.
It was an ominous fact, that as soon as she found herself alone, the first thing that the bride did, was to tear off her wedding-ring, and lock it away. It had been decided by Mayne and Travers, that the marriage was to be kept secret, at least until after the funeral, and everything went on precisely as if it had not taken place.
With regard to the funeral, the presence of Mr. Brownlow awaiting the occasion for his services, seemed to Nancy, Mayne, and others, a most hideous and heartrending necessity: Laurence Travers was still in the land of the living, and here was his friend Brownlow, waiting on at Fairplains,—as all the world was aware,—in order to read the funeral service over his dead body!
Nancy and Mayne encountered one another in the sick-room and at meals,—for Mrs. Hicks was inflexible with regard to food. She scolded vigorously, in a subdued voice, when the girl refused to eat; demanding to know, what was the good of her starving herself, and of being laid up, and no use to anyone?
Nancy rarely opened her lips, the dread of her impending bereavement was beyond words. She had lost much of her deep tan colour, and looked pinched, and haggard; it was a young face, aged and racked with torture, yet so far, she had not shed one single tear. On the contrary, her eyes had a fixed glassy stare, like those of a wax doll.
"Feed her up, and keep her going!" was Dr. Hicks' counsel to the newly-wed bridegroom. "The girl is so unnaturally restrained, that I'm afraid of some sort of a bad collapse."