Gustave Sylvester was to give away the bride, while Madam Forrester, very handsome, in mauve-colored moire, Spanish lace, and diamonds, came in on the arm of Paul Tressalia, who was by no means the least distinguished-looking one of the party, though his face might have been thought much too pale and stern for a wedding.
Earle met them at the altar, very quiet and self-possessed, but with a luminous light in his eyes that told of the depth of the joy in his heart.
After the wedding breakfast this party of five bade a long farewell to their guests and friends, and departed for the steamer that was to bear them to their beautiful home on England’s shores.
Three years have passed, and we will take just one peep at the domestic life at Wycliffe before we, too, part with them for all time.
The great mansion, the pride of all the country around, with its wide wings on either side, stands on a slight eminence, and is grand and imposing in appearance.
It was built in the Tudor style of architecture, with massive carvings and ornamentations, and was a home of which any man, however great, might have been proud.
An extensive lawn spread out in front, and was decorated here and there with patches and borders of landscape gardening, beautiful shrubbery, fountains, and statuary, while beyond and to the right of this was the park, with its noble trees, its deer and game.
Magnificent beeches, elms, and maples spread their lofty, protecting arms above and around the mansion, lending a delightful shade, and making a pleasing contrast with the brown-stone of the dwelling.
Beneath one of these trees there might have been seen, on a certain summer’s day, an exceedingly attractive group, and, to all appearances, a very happy one also.