While this large assemblage increased the gaiety of the scene, it was somewhat wearisome to Delmé, who was too truly attached to his sister, to be otherwise than thoughtful during the ceremony, and the breakfast that succeeded it.
At length the time came when Emily could escape from the gay throng; and endeavour, in the quiet of her own room, to be once more calm, before she prepared to leave her much-loved home.
The preparations made, a note was despatched to her brother, begging him to meet her in the library. As he did so, a fresh pang shot through Delmé's heart.
As he looked on Emily's flushed face--her dewy cheek--and noted her agitated manner; he for the first time perceived, her very strong resemblance to poor George, and wondered that he had never observed this before.
Clarendon announced the carriage.
"God bless you! dear Henry!"
"God bless and preserve you! my sweet! Clarendon! good bye! I am sure you will take every care of her!"
In another moment, the carriage was whirling past the library window; and Sir Henry felt little inclined, to join the formal party in the drawing-room. Sending therefore a brief message to Mrs. Glenallan, he threw open the library window, and with hurried steps reached a summer-house, half hidden in the shrubbery. He there fell into a deep reverie, which was by no means a pleasurable one.
He thought of Emily--of George--of Acmé,--and felt that he was becoming an isolated being.
And had he not loved too? As this thought crossed him, his ambitious dreams were almost forgotten.