Mrs. Cabell and Carolyn, leaning on Major Cabell’s arms, reached their carriage door. The Major dropped his cousin’s arm a moment to assist his mother in, and to settle her in her seat. And during that moment Carolyn felt an arm passed around her waist, and a voice whisper—
“Carolyn—my beloved cousin! my bride! am I forgiven?”
She burst into tears and dropped her proud head on his bosom, exclaiming—
“Oh, Archer! am I forgiven?”
He placed her in the carriage, and springing in past Major Cabell, took the seat by her side, leaving the Major to follow as he could, and forgetting the very existence of Mrs. Georgia.
Kate was close to them—she saw and heard it all. Nodding her head slowly several times, she murmured—
“Thank God. Thank God! Oh, Merciful Father, help me to say that sincerely. Thank God!”
Three weeks after this they were married. The ceremony was performed in the ancient church of St. John’s on Richmond Hill—one of the oldest places of worship on the whole continent. Mrs. Cabell would willingly have made this event the occasion of a great deal of ostentatious display; but the recent afflictions in the family, and the fragility of the bride, rendered other arrangements necessary. Therefore, immediately after the ceremony, which came off at an early hour of the morning, the newly-married couple, taking advantage of the very fine weather, departed for Norfolk, with the intention of sailing thence to Havana, where, by the advice of an eminent physician, for the re-establishment of the bride’s health, they purposed to spend the winter.
Mrs. Georgia Clifton, with all the other members of the family connection, had, of course, been present at the marriage. And no one was so lavish of smiles, tears, caresses, and congratulations, as the dark-eyed syren. But when all was over, and the bridal pair had departed, refusing the invitation of Mrs. Cabell to go home and dine with a party of friends, she hurried to her lodgings, pushed open the door of her luxurious boudoir, fastened it on the inside, and threw herself down, rolling over, tearing at the carpet, and gnashing her teeth in an agony of disappointment, jealousy and impotent rage.
But not long did the Circe of Richmond yield herself up to anguish and despair. Christmas was approaching, when she was expected to entertain a select number of her worshipers at White Cliffs. It was expedient that she should go down a few days in advance of the party, to make ready for their reception. Therefore, about five days after the marriage, she left the city.