“Fy, let us a’ to the bridal,
For there’ll be lilting there;
For Jock’s to be married to Maggie,
The lass wi’ the gowden hair.”
—Francis Sempill.
NOTHING remains to close the tale save the nuptials of the hero and heroine. Everything has been briefly (and, we trust, satisfactorily) disposed of, so that, at the merry tinkle of the marriage bell, the curtain may fall, and nothing more be desired.
Stephen de Ermstein, in the ardour of his love, soon overcame all the objections which his proud-hearted father entertained to his proposed union with the daughter of Hawksglen. So soon as the necessary arrangements could be made, and the nuptial day fixed, Sir Dacre invited Elliot to spend some days with him at Warkcliff. Elliot went; and now these two, who had been enemies, buried their past feuds in oblivion. There were feasts and revels and hunting matches during Elliot’s visit, and Warkcliff was full of rejoicing.
At length came the day on which Stephen was to lead his beautiful bride to the altar. It was a sunny day at the end of Spring. All was holiday and gladness in the village of Warkcliff. Floral arches spanned the resounding street, banners waved from the windows, and the porch of the old church was gaily decorated. Young and old were in their best attire, and on every face was joy.