"I thought she seemed much as usual whenever I saw her."
"Yes, she was gayer than ever when any one was here; but that was only put on. Poor child! she felt Jessie's marriage, and that she was so soon to be separated from the friend of her childhood."
Miss Spelman seemed to think the doctor needed consolation, and from little remarks and insinuations, he imagined that she considered him suffering from disappointment; he did not try to undeceive her, for was it not true?
He found Martha Burney a great comfort; to her he sometimes talked of Margaret, and from her he learned to understand things in her character which had been puzzling to him before. And the more he became convinced that Margaret had spoken the truth in saying that she loved him, the more he wondered at and admired her for so completely concealing it from him in their intercourse; and the better he understood that her apparent levity and exaggerated spirits were no doubt assumed in order to hide her deeper feelings. He thought much of all these things, and wondered more; but he kept his secret and hers, and only suspected sometimes that Miss Burney knew more than any one else about the matter.
Dr. James was a disappointed man, and he made no effort to disguise it from himself; but he was not a man to sit down in despair and waste his life in regrets. So, recognizing the fact that he had thrown away a great chance of happiness, and been wholly to blame for it, he resolutely turned the energy of his thoughts into other channels, and worked harder than ever. But Sealing became unutterably wearisome to him; it was only by iron determination that he went through with his daily round of duties, and as for society, he confined himself exclusively to making the calls that he imposed on himself, and going for relaxation to Father Barry and Miss Burney.
In the middle of August he left Richards in charge, and went for a week to his mother and sisters in Maine.
CHAPTER XIX.
A LAST LOOK.
Soon after Dr. James's return from Maine, he was apprised by his friend Philip of his approaching wedding, to take place at Newport, on September first. Philip urged his and Jessie's wish that he should be a groomsman; but this Dr. James, knowing that Margaret would of course be a bridesmaid, declared would be out of the question. He unwillingly promised to be present at both wedding and reception, because he had no reason to give for declining; and he looked forward to the day with mingled feelings of dread and impatience. He bought a dress suit for the first time for years; and when he was arrayed in state, gloves and all, surveyed himself from head to foot with strong disapprobation. He had spent the night at a hotel in Newport, and, having completed his toilet, descended to the parlor, where he had an opportunity of beholding his tout ensemble in the long glass between the windows.
"I look like the ass in the lion's skin," he said to himself; "only I suppose that was too big for him, while every thing I have on is too small for me. I sha'n't be myself again till I get off these vanities."
He arrived at the church full half an hour before the time, he was so afraid of being late, and chose his seat up-stairs, where he could see better without being conspicuous. He observed the showy dresses and latest fashions with wonder and disapproval, and speculated on the probable cost of the ladies assembled to their husbands and fathers, till the clock pointed to twelve and the bridal party arrived. First came a troop of little girls in white, with pink and blue sashes, carrying baskets of flowers; then Mrs. Edgar with Philip; the six bridesmaids followed, headed by Margaret, each accompanied by her groomsman, and the doctor noticed that Miss Lester's companion was a tall, handsome fellow, with a fair mustache; last came the bride, on the arm of an elderly man, whom Dr. James supposed to be her uncle.