His Lordship's attention having been thus directed to such matters—to the mercantile interests of this great country—he soon began to take a vast interest in the discussion of such subjects in the House, greatly to the surprise and edification of many of his brother peers. Absorbing, however, as were these and similar occupations, they were almost altogether suspended as soon as a day—and that not a distant one—had been fixed upon for the marriage of the Lady Cecilia with Mr. Titmouse. From that moment, the old man could scarcely bear her out of his presence; following and watching all her movements with a peculiar, though still a stately, solicitude and tenderness. Frequent, earnest, and dignified, were his interviews with Titmouse—his representations as to the invaluable treasure that was about to be intrusted to him in the Lady Cecilia—the last direct representative of the most ancient noble family in the kingdom. Innumerable were his Lordship's directions to him concerning his future conduct, both in public and private life; intimating, in a manner at once impressive and affectionate, that the eyes of the country would be thenceforward fixed upon him, as son-in-law of the Earl of Dreddlington. His Lordship, moreover—pocketing the affront he had received at the hands of the Ministry—made a very strenuous and nearly a successful effort to procure for his destined son-in-law a vacant lordship of the Treasury. The Premier was really beginning to consider the subject, when Mr. O'Gibbet extinguished all the aspiring hopes of poor Lord Dreddlington, by applying for the vacant office for Mr. Och Hubbaboo, an early friend of Mr. O'Gibbet; and who having failed in business, and been unable to re-establish himself, had come into the House of Commons to repair his shattered fortunes. I need hardly say, that within a day or two, Mr. Hubbaboo was made a lord of the Treasury; and thereby were very nearly alienated from Ministers two stanch and enlightened supporters—to wit, the Earl of Dreddlington and Mr. Titmouse.
Early in the forenoon of Tuesday the 1st of April 18—, there were indications in the neighborhood of Lord Dreddlington's house in Grosvenor Square, that an aristocratic wedding was about to be celebrated. Lady Cecilia's bridemaids, and one or two other ladies, the Duke and Duchess of Tantallan, and a few other persons of distinction, who were to accompany the party to church, made their appearance about eleven o'clock; and shortly afterwards dashed up Mr. Titmouse's cab, in which sat that gentleman, enveloped in a magnificent green cloak, designed to conceal from vulgar observation the full splendor of his personal appearance. He had been engaged at his toilet since five o'clock that morning; and the results were not unworthy of the pains which had been taken to secure them. He wore a light-blue body coat, with velvet collar; tight black pantaloons tying round his ankles; gossamer white silk stockings, and dress-shoes, with small gold buckles. His shirt was of snowy whiteness, and there glittered in the centre of it a very superb diamond brooch. He had two waistcoats, the under one a sky-blue satin, (only the roll visible,) the outer one of white satin, richly embroidered. A burnished gold guard-chain was disposed very gracefully over the exterior of his outer waistcoat. His hair was parted down the middle, and curled forward towards each temple, giving his countenance a very bold and striking expression. He wore white kid gloves, a glossy new hat, and held in his hand his agate-headed ebony cane. Though he tried to look at his ease, his face was rather pale, and his manner a little flurried. As for the bride—she had slept scarcely a quarter of an hour the whole night; and a glimpse at her countenance, in the glass, convinced her of the necessity of yielding to Annette's suggestions, and rouging a little. Her eyes told of the sleepless and agitated night she had passed; and while dressing, she was twice forced to drink a little sal volatile and water. She was cold, and trembled. When at length she had completed her toilet, what a figure did her glass present to her! The dress—rich white satin—a long and beautiful blonde lace veil—and a delicate wreath of orange blossoms, was that of a bride, certainly; but was the haggard countenance that of a bride? Miss Macspleuchan burst into tears at the sight. When, attended by her bridemaids and Miss Macspleuchan, she made her appearance in the drawing-room, the Earl of Dreddlington approached her, and saluted her with silent tenderness. Then Titmouse came up, very pale, but with a would-be familiar air—"Hope you're quite well, dearest, this happy day," said he, and kissed her gloved hand. She made him no reply; stepped back, and sank upon the sofa; and presently the carriages were announced to be in readiness. The earl led her down, followed by her two bridemaids, and entered the first carriage, which then drove off to St. George's Church; Titmouse and the rest of the party immediately following. The ceremony was to be performed by the Bishop of Barnard Castle, an old friend, and indeed a distant relation of Lord Dreddlington's. Methinks I now see his portly and commanding figure, standing at the altar, with the little distinguished party before him; and hear his clear, sonorous voice reading the marriage-service. Titmouse was pale and flushed by turns, and looked frightened—behaving, however, with more sedateness than I should have expected. Lady Cecilia leaned, when she could, against the rails; and repeated her few allotted words in a voice scarcely audible. When Titmouse fixed the ring upon her finger, she trembled and shed tears—averting her face from him, and at length concealing it entirely in her pocket-handkerchief. She looked, indeed, the image of misery. The Earl of Dreddlington maintained a countenance of rigid solemnity. At length the all-important ceremony came to a close; the necessary entries and signatures were made in the vestry, to which the wedding party followed the bishop; and then Mr. Titmouse, taking HIS WIFE'S arm within his own, led her out to the private door, where stood waiting for them the earl's chariot. He handed her into it, and popped in after her—a little crowd standing round to catch a glimpse of the distinguished bride and bridegroom; and they drove rapidly homeward. He sat in one corner, and she in the other; each so occupied with their own thoughts, that they uttered scarcely two words all the way.
A splendid déjeuner à la fourchette was prepared, and a very brilliant party attended to pay their respects to the bride and bridegroom, and the Earl of Dreddlington; and about two o'clock the Lady Cecilia withdrew to prepare for her journey, which was to Poppleton Hall, her father's residence in Hertfordshire, where they were to spend their honeymoon. She had never shown so much emotion in her life as when she parted with Miss Macspleuchan and her bridemaids—being several times on the verge of hysterics. Mr. Titmouse's travelling-chariot—a dashing chocolate-colored one, with four horses—stood at the door, her Ladyship's maid and his valet seated in the rumble. Some hundred people stood round to see the
"Happy, happy, happy pair,"
set off on their journey of happiness. The earl led down Lady Cecilia, followed by Titmouse, who had exchanged his hat for a gaudy travelling-cap, with a gold band round it! Lady Cecilia, with drooping head and feeble step, suffered the earl, whom she kissed fervently, to place her in the chariot, when she burst into a flood of tears. Then Mr. Titmouse shook hands cordially with his distinguished father-in-law—popped into the chariot—the steps were doubled up—the door closed—the side-blinds were drawn down by Mr. Titmouse; "All's right!" cried one of the servants, and away rolled the carriage-and-four, which, quickening its speed, was soon out of sight. Lady Cecilia remained in a sort of stupor for some time, and sat silent and motionless in the corner of the chariot; but Titmouse had now become lively enough, having had the benefit of some dozen glasses of champagne.
"Ah, my lovely gal—dearest gal of my heart!" he exclaimed fondly, at the same time kissing her cold cheeks, and putting his arm round her waist—"Now you're all my own! 'pon my soul, isn't it funny, though? We're man and wife! By Jove, I never loved you so much as now, ducky! eh?" Again he pressed his lips to her cold cheek.
"Don't, don't, I beg," said she, faintly, "I'm not well;" and she feebly tried to disengage herself from his rude and boisterous embrace: while her drooping head and ashy cheek fully corroborated the truth of her statement. In this state she continued for the whole of the first stage. When they stopped to change horses, says Titmouse, starting up—having very nearly dropped asleep—"Cicely, as you're so uncommon ill, hadn't you better have your maid in, and I'll sit on the box?—it would be a devilish deal more comfortable for you—eh?"
"Oh, I should feel so obliged if you would, Mr. Titmouse!" she replied faintly. It was done as she wished. Titmouse enveloped himself in his cloak; and, having lit a cigar, mounted the box, and smoked all the way till they reached the Hall!
Gammon was one of those who had seen them set off on their auspicious journey. He contemplated them with deep interest and anxiety.