Sir Theodore and Lady Barville arrived at Lord Montbarry's,
and formed their own judgment of the
fidelity of the portrait.
They had themselves married early in life--and, strange to say,
they did not object on principle to the early marriages
of other people. The question of age being thus disposed of,
the course of true love had no other obstacles to encounter.
Miss Haldane was an only child, and was possessed of an ample fortune.
Arthur's
career at the university had been creditable, but certainly not
brilliant enough to present his withdrawal in the light of a disaster.
As Sir Theodore's
eldest son, his position was already made for him.
He was two-and-twenty years of age; and the young lady was eighteen.
There was really no producible reason for keeping the lovers waiting,
and no excuse for deferring the
wedding-day beyond the first week
in September. In the
interval, while the bride and
bridegroomwould be
necessarilyabsent on the
inevitable tour abroad,
a sister of Mrs. Carbury volunteered to stay with her during
the
temporaryseparation from her niece. On the conclusion
of the
honeymoon, the young couple were to return to Ireland,
and were to establish themselves in Mrs. Carbury's
spacious and
comfortable house.
These arrangements were
decided upon early in the month of August.
About the same date, the last alterations in the old palace at Venice
were completed. The rooms were dried by steam; the cellars were stocked;
the
manager collected round him his army of
skilled servants;
and the new hotel was advertised all over Europe to open
in October.
CHAPTER XV
(MISS AGNES LOCKWOOD TO MRS. FERRARI)
'I promised to give you some
account, dear Emily, of the marriage
of Mr. Arthur Barville and Miss Haldane. It took place ten days since.
But I have had so many things to look after in the
absence of the master
and
mistress of this house, that I am only able to write to you
to-day.
'The invitations to the
wedding were
limited to members of the families
on either side, in
consideration of the ill health of Miss Haldane's aunt.
On the side of the Montbarry family, there were present,
besides Lord and Lady Montbarry, Sir Theodore and Lady Barville;
Mrs. Norbury (whom you may remember as his
lordship's second sister);
and Mr. Francis Westwick, and Mr. Henry Westwick. The three children
and I attended the
ceremony as bridesmaids. We were joined by two
young ladies, cousins of the bride and very
agreeable girls.
Our dresses were white, trimmed with green in honour of Ireland;
and we each had a handsome gold
bracelet given to us as a present from
the
bridegroom. If you add to the persons whom I have already mentioned,
the elder members of Mrs. Carbury's family, and the old servants
in both houses--privileged to drink the healths of the married pair
at the lower end of the room--you will have the list of the company at
the
wedding-breakfast complete.
'The weather was perfect, and the
ceremony (with music)
was
beautifully performed. As for the bride, no words can describe
how lovely she looked, or how well she went through it all.
We were very merry at the breakfast, and the speeches went off
on the whole quite well enough. The last speech, before the party
broke up, was made by Mr. Henry Westwick, and was the best of all.
He offered a happy
suggestion, at the end, which has produced a very
unexpected change in my life here.
'As well as I remember, he concluded in these words:--"On one point,
we are all agreed--we are sorry that the
parting hour is near,
and we should be glad to meet again. Why should we not meet again?
This is the autumn time of the year; we are most of us leaving home
for the holidays. What do you say (if you have no engagements
that will prevent it) to joining our young married friends before
the close of their tour, and renewing the social success of this
delightful breakfast by another
festival in honour of the
honeymoon?
The bride and
bridegroom are going to Germany and the Tyrol, on their
way to Italy. I propose that we allow them a month to themselves,
and that we arrange to meet them afterwards in the North of Italy--
say at Venice."
'This proposal was received with great
applause, which was changed
into shouts of
laughter by no less a person than my dear old nurse.
The moment Mr. Westwick
pronounced the word "Venice," she
started up among the servants at the lower end of the room,
and called out at the top of her voice, "Go to our hotel,
ladies and gentlemen! We get six per cent. on our money already;
and if you will only crowd the place and call for the best
of everything, it will be ten per cent in our pockets in no time.
Ask Master Henry!"
'Appealed to in this
irresistible manner, Mr. Westwick had no choice
but to explain that he was
concerned as a shareholder in a new Hotel
Company at Venice, and that he had invested a small sum of money
for the nurse (not very considerately, as I think) in the speculation.
Hearing this, the company, by way of
humouring the joke,
drank a new toast:--Success to the nurse's hotel, and a
speedy rise
in the dividend!
'When the conversation returned in due time to the more serious
question of the proposed meeting at Venice, difficulties began
to present themselves, caused of course by invitations for the autumn
which many of the guests had already accepted. Only two members of
Mrs. Carbury's family were at liberty to keep the proposed appointment.
On our side we were more at
leisure to do as we pleased.
Mr. Henry Westwick
decided to go to Venice in advance of the rest,
to test the
accommodation of the new hotel on the
opening day.
Mrs. Norbury and Mr. Francis Westwick volunteered to follow him;
and, after some
persuasion, Lord and Lady Montbarry consented
to a
species of
compromise. His
lordship could not conveniently
spare time enough for the journey to Venice, but he and Lady
Montbarry arranged to accompany Mrs. Norbury and Mr. Francis
Westwick as far on their way to Italy as Paris. Five days since,
they took their
departure to meet their travelling companions
in London; leaving me here in
charge of the three dear children.
They begged hard, of course, to be taken with papa and mamma.
But it was thought better not to
interrupt the progress of their education,
and not to
expose them (especially the two younger girls) to the fatigues
of travelling.
'I have had a
charming letter from the bride, this morning,
dated Cologne. You cannot think how artlessly and prettily she
assures me of her happiness. Some people, as they say in Ireland,
are born to good luck--and I think Arthur Barville is one of them.
'When you next write, I hope to hear that you are in better health
and spirits, and that you continue to like your employment.
Believe me,
sincerely your friend,--A. L.'
Agnes had just closed and directed her letter, when the
eldestof her three pupils entered the room with the
startling announcement
that Lord Montbarry's travelling-servant had arrived from Paris!
Alarmed by the idea that some
misfortune had happened, she ran out
to meet the man in the hall. Her face told him how
seriously he had
frightened her, before she could speak. 'There's nothing wrong, Miss,'
he hastened to say. 'My lord and my lady are enjoying themselves
at Paris. They only want you and the young ladies to be with them.'
Saying these
amazing words, he handed to Agnes a letter from
Lady Montbarry.
'Dearest Agnes,' (she read), 'I am so charmed with the delightful
change in my life--it is six years, remember, since I last travelled
on the Continent--that I have exerted all my fascinations to persuade
Lord Montbarry to go on to Venice. And, what is more to the purpose,
I have
actually succeeded! He has just gone to his room to write
the necessary letters of excuse in time for the post to England.
May you have as good a husband, my dear, when your time comes!
In the mean while, the one thing
wanting now to make my happiness
complete, is to have you and the
darling children with us.
Montbarry is just as
miserable without them as I am--though he doesn't
confess it so
freely. You will have no difficulties to trouble you.
Louis will deliver these
hurried lines, and will take care of you
on the journey to Paris. Kiss the children for me a thousand times--
and never mind their education for the present! Pack up instantly,
my dear, and I will be fonder of you than ever. Your
affectionate friend,