It is very likely I have misunderstood Miss Merton’s lively description, but I think that the above was something like it. Miss Merton herself wore a white silk trimmed with turquoise, blue, a gold locket with monogram in turquoise and pearls, and earrings to match—a gift from Mr Waldron—and a bouquet, I think, chiefly of white roses and jessamine.
It was a lovely sight. The sunshine fell upon the bride as she advanced up the aisle—fell upon her through the antique panes which softened and mellowed the light. Never did a fairer bride mount the chancel steps.
Aymer waited for her. Till now Violet had been comparatively calm; but now, face to face with the clergyman robed in white, near to the altar and its holy associations, as the first tones of his sonorous voice fell upon her ear, what wonder that her knees trembled and the blood forsook her cheek. Aymer surreptitiously, and before he had a right in etiquette to do so, touched her hand gently—it strengthened and revived her; she blushed slightly, and the vicar’s voice, as he gazed upon her beauty, involuntarily softened and fell. While his lips uttered the oft-repeated words, so known by heart that the book in his hand was unneeded, his soul offered up a prayer that this fair creature—yes, just this one—should be spared those pains and miseries which were ordained upon the human race.
The flag upon the church tower waved in the gentle breeze; the children were marshalled beside the path in two long rows, with their hands full of flowers; the women in the cottages were hunting up the old slippers and shoes; the men looked to the caps upon the nipples of their guns; the handsome greys snorted at the gate; and the grand old sun, above all, bathed the village in a flood of light. I cannot linger over it longer.
The solemn adjuration was put, the question asked, and Aymer in an audible voice replied, “I will.” The still more solemn adjuration to the woman was repeated—it is but a few words, but it conveys a world of meaning, it sums up a lifetime—and Violet’s answer was upon her lips, when, before she could form the words, the chancel side-door burst open, and there—
There before her very eyes, before the bride to whom that day was consecrated, who for that one day was by all law human and divine to be kept from all miserable things, there stood an awe-struck, gasping man, whose white shirt-front was one broad sheet of crimson blood.
It is difficult to gather together, from the confused narratives of those who were present, what really happened in consecutive order, but this is nearly it. Not only was his shirt-front blood, but his grey hair and partially bald head were spotted that awful red, and his trembling hands dripped—the blood literally dripped from them on to the stone pavement. For one awful moment there was a pause—utter silence. The man staggered forward and said in broken tones, but audible over the whole church—
“Miss Violet; your father is dead!” And the bride dropped like a stone before Aymer at her side, or Merton just behind, could grasp her arm. She was down upon the cold stone floor, her wedding-dress all crumpled up, her wreath fallen off, the light of life and love gone from her eyes, the happy glow from her cheek. Even in that moment the clergyman’s heart smote him. His impious prayer! That this one because of her beauty should be spared—and struck down before his very eyes in the midst of her joy and triumph. All that they could see in the body of the church was a shapeless heap of satin where but a moment before had stood the most envied of them all.
Aymer knelt and lifted her head; it lay helpless upon his hands. As he did so the wedding-ring, which he had ready, slipped unnoticed from his grasp and was lost. When it was missed, days afterwards, and a search was instituted, it could not be found, and this the superstitious treasured up as a remarkable fact.
Merton raised her up; her frame was limp and helpless in their arms. They carried her to the vestry and brought water. Miss Merton, trembling as she was, did not faint; but, good, brave girl, did her best.