"I am inclined to think that it never got into the papers. The marriage was private, though not secret. And you, Sylvan, should have seen that the marriage was inserted in all the daily papers. It was your special duty as groomsman. But you must have forgotten it, and I never remembered to remind you of it," said Cora.
"Not I. I never forgot it, because I never once thought of it. Didn't know it was my duty to attend to it. Besides, I had so many duties. Such awful duties! Think of my having to be my own grandmother's church papa and give her away at the altar! That duty reduced me to a state of imbecility from which I have not yet recovered."
"But," said Mr. Clarence, with a look of pain on his fine, genial countenance, "it is so strange that my father never mentioned his marriage in any of his letters to me."
"Perhaps he did not like to mix up sentiment with business," kindly suggested Sylvan.
"I don't think it was a question of sentiment," sighed Mr. Clarence.
"What? Not his marriage?"
"No," sighed Mr. Clarence.
"Well, don't worry about the matter. Let us order dinner and engage the carriage to take us all to Rockhold. How astonished the darkies will be to see us, and how much more astonished to hear the news we have to tell! I wonder if they will take kindly to the rule of the new mistress?" said Sylvan.
"Why did not one of you have the kindness, and thoughtfulness, to write and tell me of my father's marriage?" sorrowfully inquired Mr. Clarence, utterly ignoring the just spoken words of his nephew.
"Dear Uncle Clarence, I should certainly have written and told you all about it at once, if I had not taken for granted that grandfather had informed you of his intention, as was certainly his place to do. And even if I had written to you on any other occasion, I should assuredly have alluded to the marriage. But, you see, I never wrote to any one while away," Cora explained.