“I should like the tour very much,” replied she, “but—”
“I know what you would say. You do not like the idea of travelling with me as Amy Trevannion. You are right. Then let me propose that you travel with me as Amy Musgrave.”
“I second that proposal,” said Mr. Trevannion.
“Consent, Amy, let our marriage be quite private. I know you will prefer that it should be so, and so will your father. You will then travel with me as my wife, and we never shall part again.”
Amy did not reply till her father said, “Amy, it is my wish that it should be so. Recollect it will be the last time that you have to obey your father, so do not annoy me by a refusal.”
“I will not, my dear father,” replied Amy, kissing him. “Your last command I obey with pleasure. And oh! if I have sometimes been a wilful girl, forgive me every thing at this moment.”
“My dear child, I have nothing to forgive. May God bless you; and, Mr. Musgrave,” said he, putting her hand in mine, “if she proves as good a wife as she has been a daughter, you now receive a treasure,” and I felt that the old man stated what was true.
It was arranged that the marriage should take place on that day week, and that it should be quite private. There was no parade of bridal clothes; in fact, no one was invited, and it was at my request quite a secret marriage. A clergyman had been engaged to perform the ceremony, and, on the day appointed, I received the hand of my Amy in the drawing-room, and in the presence only of Humphrey and two other confidential servants.
After the ceremony was over, the clergyman requested me to come with him into the adjoining room, and said, it was necessary that he should give a certificate of the marriage, which must be inserted in the parish register. He had called me aside for that purpose, that I might give him my exact name, profession, &c.
“My name is Alexander Musgrave, as you have heard when you married us.”