The result was this—that Mr. Sutherland did not leave New York as soon as he had expected, by many weeks.
And one Sunday, before morning service, there was a quiet marriage ceremony performed before the altar of Grace Church.
And the next morning, in the list of passengers that sailed in the Baltic, for Liverpool, were the names of “Mr. and Mrs. Mark Sutherland, and two servants”—the latter being Oriole, who could not live without her mistress, and Mr. Sutherland’s valet, who was no other than our old friend Billy Button, who had been well drilled for some years past, and now, in a speckless suit of black, and a spotless white neckcloth, presented one of the most respectable specimens of a gentleman’s gentleman.
And in the meantime, Mr. Sutherland’s elegant country seat on Lake Crystal, in one of the most thriving of the Western States, was left under the charge of that grand, impartial, large-hearted, broad-visioned specimen of manhood, Mr. Billy Bolling, who had received a carte-blanche for fitting up and refurnishing the house; for, however uncertain any one might be as to Mr. Bolling’s opinions, no one could doubt his taste, which was really exquisite. And that gentleman took the greatest possible delight in preparing the mansion for the reception of the bride.
And, by the way, Mr. Bolling, by his universal agreeableness, conquered such a popularity in his own district, that he has been talked of for the Legislature, and would certainly have been made a candidate, only it seemed impossible by any means to arrive at his politics, he being claimed with equal reason by all parties.
Early in the winter, Mr. and Mrs. Sutherland returned to the United States. They went first, by invitation and pre-engagement, to spend a month among their relatives in the South.
They went to Texas, where they found Mrs. Wells, still a hale and handsome woman, though on the shady side of fifty, and the Doctor more appreciative of her real worth, and more attached to her now than he was at the period of his mercenary marriage. They spent one happy month with the Wellses, and then, accompanied by Mrs. Wells, went into Louisiana, to pay a long-promised visit to Lincoln Lauderdale and his vivacious little lady.
They found them well and prosperous, and surrounded by a thriving young family. Little change had time made in Lincoln or the piquant “Nan.” A month was whiled away in their pleasant society, and so it was near spring before the Sutherlands, still accompanied by Mrs. Wells, set out up the river for their North-Western home.
And it was quite spring when they reached the beautiful shores of Lake Crystal, and entered their own elegant home. Mrs. Wells remained with them and spent the summer.
And she still continues to come every year to spend her summers with her “beloved Mark,” her “only child.” Mark and India occasionally return those visits in the winter—that is, when Mr. Sutherland’s official duties permit him to do so. For Mark Sutherland is still a rising politician, adored by one party and abhorred by another. And, in the present hopeful state of the public mind, it is impossible to predict of any given contest whether the people mean to elect or mob their own candidate.