The sort of expectations to which his conduct gave rise in the village was more than once significantly hinted to Mrs. Hepburn, when receiving the congratulations and good wishes of the many attached parishioners who had known her from a child. The fear perpetually expressed that her marriage would remove her from the neighborhood, as Miss Sybil’s had done, was pretty generally followed by a more or less broadly-worded hint that Miss Gwyneth’s choice would be a better one for them, and that they hoped one of their young ladies at least would never leave them; for young as Miss Gwyneth was, she was quite womanly in her way and look, and was as well fitted to be mistress at the Vicarage as young Mrs. Hepburn herself. And a remark which closed one of these commentaries the first time they met her taught her what accurate and penetrating notice those apparently indifferent spectators took of their superior’s ways and proceedings.
“But bless you, miss,” said one old woman, “it would have been far better for us had you taken the young ’Squire at ‘the Ferns,’ instead of this captain from foreign parts. And they do say he will be fit to hang himself, whensoever he comes to hear of your being married to another.”
Hilary tried to look unconcerned, and to speak on some other subject.
News travels fast, and it soon became known to the village gossips that Mr. Huyton did not intend to commit suicide on the occasion of Hilary’s marriage.
But the first intelligence which reached the Vicarage of his plans came directly from himself, in a letter to Mr. Duncan, which the writer knew well must be read by Hilary herself.
“Dear Mr. Duncan,
“Although I am just on the point of leaving England for some weeks on most important business, I must steal a few
moments to write to you, lest indifferent and gossiping tongues should convey to you the report of what I wish to be the first to communicate. Former friendship and bygone events convince me that this intelligence will be received with some degree of interest by the family at the Vicarage. I am about to marry; it is no use seeking for elegant turns of language to announce it; that is the plain fact. The lady, who is already well known to you, has particularly commissioned me to give you the information; and when I tell you that she is no other than Miss Dora Barham, you may form some idea of the happiness which gilds my future prospects. I believe the ceremony will be celebrated immediately on my return from Germany, or as soon after as can be conveniently arranged. You can imagine the pleasure with which I contemplate settling quietly at ‘the Ferns’ once more, with such a companion and friend; and I trust her anticipations are as pleasant and vivid as my own. Among these must, of course, rank very highly the opportunity it will afford of carrying on the friendly intercourse with your family, which has already been so conducive to our happiness in past years, and which it will be equally desirable and delightful to establish on a permanent footing for the future.
“With kind regards to your family circle,
“Believe me ever,