And Evelyn was happy and bright again, and everybody felt that things were going on more comfortably. Guy had found his right place now, and with the tenderest love and respect for the memory of those so soon reunited in heaven, set himself, with the sweet companion they had both wished to confide to his care, to fill their place, and carry on their works of improvement and usefulness among the people.
"It's the very properest providence, among all the providences ever I heard tell of," remarked Mr. Spadeley to his friend Mr. Turnbull. "It's pretty near just how I'd laid it all out myself, except that I didn't think but the Squire and his lady might have lived a bit longer, for we all miss them sorely; but then you see, neighbour Turnbull, if they had, I mightn't have done for them as I did, and we're sure they've got something better up above, so it's all for the best, you see." And the sexton looked extremely resigned to the "providences," in which he almost thought some, at least, of his own ideas must have been suggestive.
He was highly flattered by being made chairman of a small village committee, intending to supplement more important demonstrations on the day which was to celebrate the union of the houses of the Falconers and Hazelwoods, and he highly applauded the achievement of the village schoolmaster in the poetical reception to be sung by all the musical talent of the Falcon Range when the bride and bridegroom should reach the entrance to the old Moat House.
And they stood there, Guy and his Evelyn, with their friends, on the steps beneath the porch, while the whole village swarmed around them and the Church bells sent their sweet chimes through the foliage of the grand old trees, and young men and maidens, old men and children joined to sing:—
"Ring away, joyous bells, ye have tolled long enough,
Life hath smooth places as well as rough;
The Old Moat House, without sin or stain,
Is restored to its banished chief again.
Sorrow and loss good fruit have borne
And earthly honours are meekly worn;
"While the sainted ones in their world of bliss
See their places filled again in this.
Then merrily welcome the noble pair,
The Saxon bride and the Falconer's heir.
May love and peace, without saddening change,
Overshadow the halls of the Falcon Range."
WEDDING BELLS.
"De good Lord bless dem!" said Phœbe, solemnly, as she read in her prized English letter of the happy event. "Dey begin at right end ob de way. Seek first de kingdom, all oder tings come right den, and what de dear Lord join togedder, no priest, nor debble, nor noting put asunder. De Lord him pity and forgib great deal, but don't know what him say about takin' his place, and makin' poor sinners crush dere hearts out 'fore de 'fessor. Keep quiet ole Phœbe, nebber get no good for bein' in a hurry, If de dear Lord 'ford to wait a good spell 'fore him show it, Phœbe 'ford to wait too, while dear Missy safe in hebben singin' hallelujah. Lord 'liber us from tinkin' He don't see no difference 'tween black and white, de priest' absolution and His own blessed snow-white pardon.
"So now fill up de time dat's hurryin' on wis praises and prayers, goin' round de world, catchin' up dat blessed ole England and de ole Moat House ebery day 'fore de 'trone, and leab it to Him to make crooked tings straight in His own good time. Bery crooked tings sometimes puzzle de Lord's chillen; but dey walks by faith and waits, and ole black 'ooman know for sure de Lord's ways equal, and His lub de same in hebben for broken-hearted wife safe dere, and de pilgrim bride at the Moat House, happy and willin' for de life road afore her. De Lord's will be done and His blessing on dem all."