And when the children had dispersed for the night, and he was alone again with Mrs. Hartland, he said:
"George has been led away by his imagination; and your vehement opposition will only strengthen him; let him alone, and he will get over this."
In due time Philip made his appearance. He was a gay, spirited, handsome fellow—a great favorite with every one, and especially with George, whose classmate he had been.
The Shirleys and Hartlands had been intimate for many years, having moved in the same society, inherited the same religious opinions, and imbibed by association the same ideas. Mr. Shirley was a man of great wealth, and was still living; but Philip had just inherited a fine property from the uncle after whom he was named, so that he was as rich as he needed to be now, with a prospect of as much again hereafter. Indeed, as Mrs. Hartland rather proudly said, "It was precisely the connection which they had most desired for Isabel."
And yet, such as Philip was, it was not strange, perhaps, that George's idea of the Christmas gift should seem to Isabel far-fetched. "But it is not so," George reasoned, "for you all say that marriages are made in heaven, and St. James says that 'Every best gift, and every perfect gift, is from above, and cometh down from the Father of lights.'"
Christmas eve arrived, and, according to the programme, the young people were married. "The wedding was furnished with guests," and it may be taken for granted at once that everything was planned and carried out in the most approved style, since Isabel had the supreme dictatorship. George was first groomsman, and the others were selected from the list of Belle's inconsolable admirers. Little Kate was the smallest bridesmaid, and went through her part with serious gravity, evidently believing that she was assisting at a solemn function. The bride and groom were pronounced the handsomest couple, and so forth; the cake and the weather were delicious. Philip certainly appreciated his Christmas gift, and thought himself a happy man. He had always considered Belle the prettiest girl in P——, as she was certainly one of the cleverest; he was perfectly persuaded that she was equally good and beautiful, and he had the grace to think that his own wealth, with his other advantages, did no more than place him upon a par with her. Certainly, Isabel's prospects of happiness were very fair.
And so she passed away to adorn a new house, very much missed by all at the old, and by none more than by Mary, who succeeded to the place and honors of elder sister, though confessedly by no means so beautiful, brilliant, or clever as "Miss Hartland that was." But Mary was a good girl, played and sang very sweetly, and was always ready to gratify her father with those simple ballads in which he chiefly delighted. Home was quieter, but perhaps scarcely less happy, and home happiness was constantly augmented by the pleasure of anticipating Isabel's visits.
If Mr. Hartland really expected George to get over his love for and belief in the Catholic religion, he was evidently doomed to disappointment; for, to all appearance, it every day penetrated more and more the very substance of his being, though he had always been so sincerely religious that his external conduct was modified by it less than might have been supposed. Fanny never repeated her preposterous request for permission to go to church with brother George; but she was perpetually slipping into his room, peeping into his books, admiring his little pictures and statuettes, trying, in fact, with a girl's insatiable curiosity, to discover why the forbidden fruit was so unspeakably poisonous. She incurred repeated scoldings for her restless inquest; and, after being reproved the twentieth time for taking possession of brother George's books and carrying them off into her own room, she fairly disconcerted her mother by indignantly inquiring, "Why they had no 'creed,' and what right the people who first started the Protestant religion had to hide away the 'Apostles' Creed' from everybody, so that hundreds of persons who thought themselves Christians, and meant to be Christians, lived and died without ever knowing there was any 'creed.'"
Poor Mrs. Hartland was completely nonplussed; she knew nothing about creeds herself, but she hesitatingly suggested that they had a "form of covenant." This, Fanny insisted, was not the least like the "Creed," and her mother, having no other forces in reserve, took refuge in the usual invective, and assured her daughter in the most solemn manner that she would prefer to see her in her grave rather than have her imbibe her brother George's sentiments. Fanny, of course, was obliged to go to George for a satisfactory answer to her question, and having learned from him the gradual process by which the first Protestantism had dwindled down into New England Congregationalism, her reverence for the system in which she had been brought up was not increased.