There were many happy hearts in Aston that night, but none happier than that of its repentant master.
[CHAPTER XI.]
O breathe those vows all hopefully,
A blessing from above
Is resting on the sacred bond
Of hallowed human love.
Culver Allen.
"As soon as you have prepared your drawings for the new church, we shall be glad to see them," said Hargrave, to young Clifford, as he took up the reins, and drove off from the rectory with Mr. Ware, and his nephew. There was such a magic in that simple pronoun, 'we,' that he could not forget it long after it had passed his lips, leaving the young architect to indulge a long day dream on his kindness, which was to end in the happiness of one other patient young being, long plighted to his uncertain fortunes. Hargrave had, indeed, been determined to be lavish of the blessings which he had, himself, so bounteously received, and already reaped the fruits of well-doing in the pleasure it gave him.
Before evening they reached Bath, where the good rector was received with unaffected delight by Mabel, and with much timid apprehension by his nephew's intended bride, who was, however, soon reassured by the kindness of his manner.
In the midst of all this busy happiness, Caroline and Maria continued to make themselves often remembered, and poor Mabel had to endure very much at their hands, and to experience so many complicated annoyances, that she looked to her marriage as to a haven of rest. She had received from Mr. Ware the box of plate, of which he had the charge, and presented it to her aunt, and, so far, had discharged all duty to her: but, though she had been cruelly injured, she could not help sincerely pitying her, since so much painful dissension had sprung up between her and her daughters; at the same time, that she must deeply feel the disappointment of all her schemes.
But time hurried on till the first of June, which had been fixed for the double marriages, and on that morning the bells of the venerable Abbey startled the passers by with such a merry peal, as left little doubt of their import. It really would be difficult to calculate the exact quantity of Macassar oil and scents, which were expended in the two hours which Miss Lovelace spent at her toilet, on the occasion; but, certainly, her ringlets were in the very best order, when she arrived in Sydney Place, and the pink silk dress which had been presented to her, with its numberless tiny flounces, from her very waist to the ground, became her exceedingly. Unfortunately, the party was, she found, very deficient in beaux—but, as scandal was to her, almost as rich a source of amusement as flirtation; she contented herself by keeping her eyes open, and noting down facts in her memory with wonderful precision; subject, indeed, to a coloring of her own, with which she always heightened events in narration much in the same way as that in which the lights and shadows of a highly finished picture often far exceed those of reality.