I think Squire Lee supposes himself to be near his end. A few weeks since, he requested his daughter to leave him alone with Allen, when he asked the young man, "Do you still love Lucy?"
"I have never ceased to love her," was the reply.
"Then," said the old gentleman, in a very affecting manner, "my daughter is a good girl, and I should like to see her happily married before I die." He also added, "if you marry her, you will not have a portionless bride."
Monday, October 9th.
Emily has just consented to go to the city to make some purchases for the intended bride, as Lucy cannot think of leaving her father, who is very feeble. He told her in the presence of Allen, that he did not wish their marriage to be delayed.
The ardent lover persuaded Lucy to name an early day; and the nineteenth of this month is decided upon. It will be strictly a private wedding. The service is to be performed in the chamber of the invalid, with only our family as witnesses. Lucy wished Emily to be her bridemaid; but as there was no one intimate enough in the family with whom it would be pleasant for her to stand, sister easily persuaded her to dispense with this part of the ceremony.
Thursday, October 19th.
To-day I accompanied the Doctor and Emily to Squire Lee's. He is exceedingly feeble, and Frank almost feared, lest the excitement of the occasion would be too much for him. But the service was very short and informal. When we were seated, Allen and Lucy came in from the adjoining room, a short prayer was offered by the Rev. Mr. Munroe, the covenant of marriage was administered and received, by which the parties pledged themselves to a faithful performance of the duties of husband and wife, as set forth in the holy scriptures, the benediction was pronounced, and our dear friend was Lucy Lee no longer, but Mrs. Lucy Mansfield. In this new character, she stepped forward quickly to her father and kissed his pale brow, while we silently retired from the room, the Doctor alone remaining with the patient. And he joined us in a few moments, leaving the sick man far less fatigued than we had feared.
Frank says, he would give a great deal to know whether Squire Lee has made provision for his daughter. After we all left the room, Lucy sat on a cricket chafing his poor withered hand. He looked at her with melting tenderness, as he said to Frank, who had returned to him, "Doctor, she is a good girl."