“Think you not, my friends, that this scene, these happy faces, and this happy home, might well reward any degree or duration of earthly toil? But toil there has been none, for the teaching and nurture of this sweet child has been from the first a labour of love; and the only pain or regret that she has ever caused me, is that which I now feel, when I recollect, that I must resign her into the hands of her natural guardians, and return to my appointed task, the occasional troubles of which will not any more be sweetened by her presence, nor its vexations be soothed by her affection. Such, however, is the will of Him whom I serve, and far be it from me to repine.”
“Nay,” interrupted Reginald, eagerly, “you will not leave us yet. After the fatigues and trials of this summer, you will surely give yourself some repose.”
“My son, I would gladly dwell awhile in this pleasant and happy abode; but I must not leave Wingenund to contend unaided against the difficulties by which his present path will be beset, the doubts and temptations which may assail him from within, and the sneers or scorn he may experience from the more proud and violent spirits of his tribe.”
“There is, however, one service that you have promised to render before you take your departure from Mooshanne. Perhaps there are others here beside myself who will urge you to its faithful performance.”
This bold speech threw the whole party into momentary confusion. Prairie–bird, pretending to whisper to the missionary, hid her blushing face upon his shoulder; the conscious eyes of Ethelston and Lucy met; while Aunt Mary bestowed upon Colonel Brandon one of those knowing smiles with which elderly ladies usually think fit to accompany matrimonial allusions.
The awkwardness was of short duration; for the mutual feelings of the parties betrothed were no secret to any present; and Reginald was not of a disposition to endure unnecessary delays; so he drew Prairie–bird with gentle force towards her brother, and still retaining her hand in his own, he said, “Ethelston, will you, as guardian of your sister, consent to my retaining this fair hand? Beware how you reply, lest I should use my influence against you in a request which you may make to my father.”
Had Ethelston been ignorant of his sister’s feelings, he might have read them in the expression of her blushing countenance; but being already in full possession of them, and meeting a smile of approval from Colonel Brandon, he placed his sister’s hand within that of Reginald, saying, “Take her, Reginald, and be to her, as a husband, true, faithful, and affectionate, as you have been to me as a friend.”
It will not be supposed that Ethelston waited long for the consent of either her father or brother to his union with Lucy; and Paul Müller agreed to remain at Mooshanne one week, at the end of which time the double ceremony was to take place.
While these interesting arrangements were in progress, the noise of wheels, and the tramp of many horses, announced the approach of a large party; upon which Colonel Brandon, accompanied by the missionary and Aunt Mary, went to see who the new comers might be, leaving the two young couples to follow at their leisure. The Colonel was not long kept in suspense as to the quality of his visitors, for before reaching the house, he heard the broad accent of David Muir’s voice addressing Reginald’s attendant.
“Thank ye, thank ye, Maister Parrot,” for so did he pronounce the Frenchman’s name; “if ye’ll just haud the uncanny beast by the head, Jessie can step on the wheel an’ be down in a crack. There, I tauld ye so; it’s a’ right noo; and Jessie, lass, ye need na’ look sae frighted, for your new gown’s nae rumpled, an’ Hairy will tak’ the bit parcel into the house for ye.”