Then, as no time was to be lost, the young pair stood up side by side; the ladies of the party arranged themselves as attendants and witnesses, and the ceremony that made Alexander Lyon and Drusilla Sterling man and wife was performed.
When the blessing had been pronounced, Alexander saluted his “child-wife” with the almost reverential tenderness due to her sacred isolation.
The preacher shook hands with both and wished them much joy.
Then the ladies of the family came up with their congratulations.
The old lady kissed the youthful bride with much feeling, saying:
“May the Lord bless you, poor, motherless little thing!—And you, sir,” she added, turning to the bridegroom—“Remember that her extreme youth and her recent orphanage claim a double amount of tenderness.”
“I know it, madam; I feel it; and I thank you for the interest you take in my little wife,” said Alexander.
He then slipped a hundred dollar note in the preacher’s hand, bowed his adieux to the whole party, and led his bride back to the carriage.
“I am glad the dear old lady gave us her blessing. It seemed to hallow our union, as much as the ceremony did. But I wonder how she knew I was an orphan?” said Drusilla, as they crossed the sidewalk to the carriage door.
“I told them as much of your circumstances as I deemed expedient to account for your coming unattended by ladies, and in a black dress,” said Alexander, as they paused while the driver got down and opened the door.