It was only when the guests had assembled in the spacious drawing- room at "Sunnybank" that our friend found opportunity to have a short conversation with Marguerite, who with sunlit face took no pains to conceal her delight. She chatted with Phillip Lawson with a familiarity that led the calculating mother to think that she had no further troubles from that source.
And Cousin Jennie's presence heightened the effect of this illusion.
Clad in draperies of soft nun's veiling Jennie Montgomery was, if not pretty, quite interesting, and her bright, fresh face was refreshing as the air of her native vales.
As in truth every wedding boasts of the time-honored conventionalities, toasts and speeches, that of "Sunnybank" formed no exception, and we will not weary you with the endless list of compliments and amount-to-nothing-in-the-end talk which is current at such times.
It was only when the hour for departure had arrived that a sense of loneliness crept over Marguerite.
The elegant presents had been inspected, luncheon served, and the bride, attired in a superb travelling costume, stood in the doorway awaiting the carriage.
Montague Arnold wears all the necessary smiles that are expected of him, and as he takes his place beside his bride a new responsibility dawns upon him.
A large number of the party accompany the newly-wedded pair to the
Fairville Station, and Marguerite is assigned to Mr. Lawson and
Cousin Jennie.
The latter is cheerful and witty and strives, under cover of her remarks, to divert her cousin from the sadness that is common to such occasions.
Phillip Lawson sees with gratitude the girl's kindness and thanks her in a way that is tenfold more valued than the counterfeit everyday thanks passed around in common life. If the young barrister could have seen the true state of Cousin Jennie's feelings towards him he would have fallen on his knees and thanked God for such a friend.