"Penelope, I know you love me, and I hope our meetings will ever be in undisturbed and happy friendship, but your manner is foreboding of evil."
"I have a pain at my heart, Julia," replied Miss Wycherly, pressing her hand upon her bosom; "but it will pass away. I have a severe pain here, but I trust it will never visit your warm heart. Julia, may you be the happiest of the happy! but, in all changes, remember Penelope Wycherly, whom you served in her need." Miss Wycherly threw her arms round Julia, and the two friends embraced in silence. Lady Ennismore interfered.
"This is a sad specimen of congratulation, my dear Miss Wycherly, and my daughter will be made ill by these agreeable, but hurtful phrases. Ennismore, lead your bride to her father; and we will take possession of our jewel, lest melancholy faces dispirit her mind. Lady Wetheral, I believe we are now preparing to carry away our darling."
Lady Wetheral's eyes sparkled with more than triumphant delight, as Julia was led into her father's study; she followed mechanically in the wake of the two Lady Ennismores, and her step sounded proudly as she remembered that her daughter now was numbered among the great ones of the land. Sir John only considered that his child was the wife of a man he could not love, and the daughter-in-law of a woman he did not esteem. The full tide of affection rushed to his heart, but became unutterable from his lips. He could only press Julia to his bosom; he could not tell her, his mind was happy in the prospect which was before her, but he bade God bless her in spirit, and his embrace spoke volumes.
Miss Wycherly did not intrude upon the sacred scene; but she was stationed in the hall to gaze upon her friend, and watch her movements. Charles Spottiswoode stood near her, but his accents of kind and fond interest were unheeded by Penelope. As Julia emerged from the library, and proceeded towards the hall-door with her new relations, her mother and the Boscawens, Miss Wycherly fixed her eyes upon her friend's pale countenance, and exclaimed, "Julia, you are going; remember my last words, my own dear friend—in all changes, remember me and mine!"
Julia was speechless, but she extended her hand, which Penelope covered with kisses, and resigned with reluctance to Lord Ennismore. "There, my lord," she exclaimed with energy, "take my friend, since it must be so, but you will not love her as I do, or understand her warm heart as I prize it! I shall be ever with you, Julia, in spirit, and my friendship shall be a buckler in time of need. Farewell, my own dear friend!"
Miss Wycherly left the hall, and watched Julia's departure through a window more retired from observation. There was only Charles Spottiswoode to listen, and to him her lamentation was addressed. She told her lover all her fears and all her thoughts respecting Julia's marriage; the melancholy idea took possession of her mind, that Lord Ennismore was unsuited to her friend's character, and, though there was nothing tangible in his lordship's behaviour to elicit a strong objection, there was a decided difference in his character, a manner totally opposed to the character and kindly bearing of her cousin Tom, which must affect every body's mind and opinions. She had an ominous foreboding that Julia would be unhappy, and never would she marry Charles Spottiswoode, unless he would swear, under all reports, under all circumstances, to receive Julia Wetheral at Lidham; yes, though she became a worthless thing, poor, miserable, and contemptible. "Swear it to me, Charles," she cried, "swear it now, ere the carriage-door closes on my friend, and carries her from my sight!"
"I do, Penelope," replied Spottiswoode, kindly. "Lady Ennismore will find me her warm friend in every trial; but, why are you so fearful and foreboding now? Why do your fears gain such influence and mastery at this moment of time, when her heart is calm, and his affection is undisputed?"
"God help me, Charles! but, as Julia came from the library just now, she looked like a lamb led to the slaughter. Did you read the expression of Lady Ennismore, the mother's eyes?"
"I did not observe her. I was watching your eyes, Penelope."