Chapter Nineteen.
Even the humblest abode can look gay and bright when it is decked all over with flowers, and when the windows look out on gay gardens and blooming plants, and lake in also distant peeps of lovely country. Kent has been well called the garden of England, and that part where Silas Lynn lived, and where his little flower farm was, was as brilliant and as rich in all kinds of vegetation as any spot in the whole of the county.
Aunt Hannah Royal was, as she expressed it, in every event “all one thing or t’other.” She either went with all her heart and soul for a person, or she determined to oppose them with equal vigour. There was nothing half-hearted about her, she could never have been called in any sense of the word lukewarm. She had come to Silas’s cottage with the full intention of opposing his marriage with Jill, and, if possible, preventing it. She had left the cottage on the first night of her interview considerably softened in her views with regard to things in general. She had made up her mind to see Jill before she took any more steps against her. She had also made up her mind that the tea-drinking out of that delicate “chaney” should prove a success.
When Jill arrived, and when shortly afterwards she echoed Aunt Hannah’s sentiments with regard to the lovely cups and saucers, the old woman’s heart was completely won. She ceased to oppose Silas’s marriage. She kissed him when she next saw him, and told him that the “gel wor a sweet-looking gel, and she made no doubt as she’d be humble and teachable, and willing to learn, not only of her husband, but of her Aunt Hannah.”
“Then, Aunt Hannah,” said Silas, “you’ll ondertake the wedding-feast, won’t you?”
Aunt Hannah decided that she would, and the next morning she came to live at the cottage, and spent every instant of her time preparing the eatables, without which no wedding in her opinion could be properly solemnised.
A few of the village folks had been asked to meet the bride at Silas’s little cottage. The whole party were then to walk to church together, and afterwards, late in the evening, Silas and his wife were to go away by train to the nearest sea-side place.
This was the little programme which Aunt Hannah Royal devoutly believed was to be carried out.
Mary Ann Hatton, Mrs Hibberty Jones, another neighbour of the name of Ann Spires, and two or three men, were all waiting in the little parlour when Silas appeared leading Jill by the hand.