Marion Fay: A Novel

by Anthony Trollope

  CHAPTER XVII.

  LADY AMALDINA'S WEDDING.

  The time came round for Lady Amaldina's marriage, than which nothingmore august, nothing more aristocratic, nothing more truly savouringof the hymeneal altar, had ever been known or was ever to be knownin the neighbourhood of Hanover Square. For it was at last decidedthat the marriage should take place in London before any of thearistocratic assistants at the ceremony should have been whirled awayinto autumnal spaces. Lord Llwddythlw himself knew but very littleabout it,--except this, that nothing would induce him so to hurry onthe ceremony as to interfere with his Parliamentary duties. A day inAugust had been mentioned in special reference to Parliament. He waswilling to abide by that, or to go to the sacrifice at any earlierday of which Parliament would admit. Parliament was to sit for thelast time on Wednesday, 12th August, and the marriage was fixed forthe 13th. Lady Amaldina had prayed for the concession of a week.Readers will not imagine that she based her prayers on the impatienceof love. Nor could a week be of much significance in reference tothat protracted and dangerous delay to which the match had certainlybeen subjected. But the bevy might escape. How were twenty youngladies to be kept together in the month of August when all the youngmen were rushing off to Scotland? Others were not wedded to theirduties as was Lord Llwddythlw. Lady Amaldina knew well how completelyParliament became a mere affair of Governmental necessities duringthe first weeks of August. "I should have thought that just on thisone occasion you might have managed it," she said to him, trying tomingle a tone of love with the sarcasm which at such a crisis wasnatural to her. He simply reminded her of the promise which he hadmade to her in the spring. He thought it best not to break througharrangements which had been fixed. When she told him of one veryslippery member of the bevy,--slippery, not as to character, butin reference to the movements of her family,--he suggested that noone would know the difference if only nineteen were to be clusteredround the bride's train. "Don't you know that they must be in pairs?""Will not nine pairs suffice?" he asked. "And thus make one of theman enemy for ever by telling her that I wish to dispense with herservices!"

  But it was of no use. "Dispense with them altogether," he said,looking her full in the face. "The twenty will not quarrel withyou. My object is to marry you, and I don't care twopence for thebridesmaids." There was something so near to a compliment in this,that she was obliged to accept it. And she had, too, begun toperceive that Lord Llwddythlw was a man not easily made to changehis mind. She was quite prepared for this in reference to her futurelife. A woman, she thought, might be saved much trouble by havinga husband whom she was bound to obey. But in this matter of hermarriage ceremony,--this last affair in which she might be presumedto act as a free woman,--she did think it hard that she might notbe allowed to have her own way. The bridegroom, however, was firm.If Thursday, the 13th, did not suit her, he would be quite ready onThursday, the 20th. "There wouldn't be one of them left in London,"said Lady Amaldina. "What on earth do you think that they are to dowith themselves?"

  But all the bevy were true to her. Lady Amelia Beaudesert was adifficulty. Her mother insisted on going to a far-away Bavarianlake on which she had a villa;--but Lady Amelia at the last momentsurrendered the villa rather than break up the bevy, and consentedto remain with a grumpy old aunt in Essex till an opportunity shouldoffer. It may be presumed, therefore, that it was taken to be a greatthing to be one of the bevy. It is, no doubt, a pleasant thing fora girl to have it asserted in all the newspapers that she is, byacknowledgment, one of the twenty most beautiful unmarried ladies inGreat Britain.

  Lady Frances was of course one of the bevy. But there was a member ofthe family,--a connection rather,--whom no eloquence could induce toshow himself either in the church or at the breakfast. This was LordHampstead. His sister came to him and assured him that he ought to bethere. "Sorrows," she said, "that have declared themselves before theworld are held as sufficient excuse; but a man should not be hinderedfrom his duties by secret grief."

  "I make no secret of it. I do not talk about my private affairs. I donot send a town-crier to Charing Cross to tell the passers-by thatI am in trouble. But I care not whether men know or not that I amunfitted for joining in such festivities. My presence is not wantedfor their marriage."

  "It will be odd."

  "Let it be odd. I most certainly shall not be there." But heremembered the occasion, and showed that he did so by sending to thebride the handsomest of all the gems which graced her exhibition ofpresents, short of the tremendous set of diamonds which had come fromthe Duke of Merioneth.

  This collection was supposed to be the most gorgeous thing that hadever as yet been arranged in London. It would certainly not be toomuch to say that the wealth of precious toys brought together would,if sold at its cost price, have made an ample fortune for a youngnewly-married couple. The families were noble and wealthy, and therichness of the wedding presents was natural. It might perhaps havebeen better had not the value of the whole been stated in one of thenewspapers of the day. Who was responsible for the valuation wasnever known, but it seemed to indicate that the costliness of thegifts was more thought of than the affection of the givers; and itwas undoubtedly true that, in high circles and among the clubs, thecost of the collection was much discussed. The diamonds were known toa stone, and Hampstead's rubies were spoken of almost as freely asthough they were being exhibited in public. Lord Llwddythlw when heheard of all this muttered to his maiden sister a wish that a gnomewould come in the night and run away with everything. He felt himselfdegraded by the publicity given to his future wife's ornaments. Butthe gnome did not come, and the young men from Messrs. Bijou andCarcanet were allowed to arrange the tables and shelves for theexhibition.

  The breakfast was to take place at the Foreign Office, at whichthe bride's father was for the time being the chief occupant. LordPersiflage had not at first been willing that it should be so,thinking that his own more modest house might suffice for themarriage of his own daughter. But grander counsels had been allowedto prevail. With whom the idea first arose Lord Persiflage neverknew. It might probably have been with some of the bevy, who had feltthat an ordinary drawing-room would hardly suffice for so magnificentan array of toilets. Perhaps the thought had first occurred toMessrs. Bijou and Carcanet, who had foreseen the glory of spreadingout all that wealth in the magnificent saloon intended for thewelcoming of ambassadors. But it travelled from Lady Amaldina to hermother, and was passed on from Lady Persiflage to her husband. "Ofcourse the Ambassadors will all be there," the Countess had said,"and, therefore, it will be a public occasion." "I wish we could bemarried at Llanfihangel," Lord Llwddythlw said to his bride. NowLlanfihangel church was a very small edifice, with a thatched roof,among the mountains in North Wales, with which Lady Amaldina had beenmade acquainted when visiting the Duchess, her future mother-in-law.But Llwddythlw was not to have his way in everything, and thepreparations at the Foreign Office were continued.

  The beautifully embossed invitations were sent about among a largecircle of noble and aristocratic friends. All the Ambassadors and allthe Ministers, with all their wives and daughters, were, of course,asked. As the breakfast was to be given in the great Banqueting Hallat the Foreign Office it was necessary that the guests should bemany. It is sometimes well in a matter of festivals to be saved fromextravagance by the modest size of one's rooms. Lord Persiflage toldhis wife that his daughter's marriage would ruin him. In answer tothis she reminded him that Llwddythlw had asked for no fortune. LordLlwddythlw was one of those men who prefer giving to taking. He hada feeling that a husband should supply all that was wanted, and thata wife should owe everything to the man she marries. The feeling isuncommon just at present,--except with the millions who neither havenor expect other money than what they earn. If you are told thatthe daughter of an old man who has earned his own bread is about tomarry a young man in the same condition of life, it is spoken of as amisfortune. But Lord Llwddythlw was old-fashioned, and had the meansof acting in accordance with his prejudices.
Let the marriage be everso gorgeous, it would not cost the dowry which an Earl's daughtermight have expected. That was the argument used by Lady Persiflage,and it seemed to have been effectual.

  As the day drew near it was observed that the bridegroom becamemore sombre and silent even than usual. He never left the House ofCommons as long as it was open to him as a refuge. His Saturdays andhis Sundays and his Wednesdays he filled up with work so variousand unceasing that there was no time left for those pretty littleattentions which a girl about to be married naturally expects. Hedid call, perhaps, every other day at his bride's house, but neverremained there above two minutes. "I am afraid he is not happy," theCountess said to her daughter.

  "Oh, yes, mamma, he is."

  "Then why does he go on like that?"

  "Oh, mamma, you do not know him."

  "Do you?"

  "I think so. My belief is that there isn't a man in London so anxiousto be married as Llwddythlw."

  "I am glad of that."

  "He has lost so much time that he knows it ought to be got throughand done with without further delay. If he could only go to sleep andwake up a married man of three months' standing, he would be quitehappy. If it could be administered under chloroform it would be somuch better! It is the doing of the thing, and the being talked aboutand looked at, that is so odious to him."

  "Then why not have had it done quietly, my dear?"

  "Because there are follies, mamma, to which a woman should never giveway. I will not have myself made humdrum. If I had been going tomarry a handsome young man so as to have a spice of romance out ofit all, I would have cared nothing about the bridesmaids and thepresents. The man then would have stood for everything. Llwddythlw isnot young, and is not handsome."

  "But he is thoroughly noble."

  "Quite so. He's as good as gold. He will always be somebody inpeople's eyes because he's great and grand and trustworthy all round.But I want to be somebody in people's eyes, too, mamma. I'm all verywell to look at, but nothing particular. I'm papa's daughter, whichis something,--but not enough. I mean to begin and be magnificent. Heunderstands it all, and I don't think he'll oppose me when once thisexhibition day is over. I've thought all about it, and I think that Iknow what I'm doing."

  At any rate, she had her way, and thoroughly enjoyed the task she hadon hand. When she had talked of a possible romance with a handsomeyoung lover she had not quite known herself. She might have made theattempt, but it would have been a failure. She could fall in lovewith a Master of Ravenswood in a novel, but would have given herselfby preference,--after due consideration,--to the richer, though lesspoetical, suitor. Of good sterling gifts she did know the value, andwas therefore contented with her lot. But this business of beingmarried, with all the most extravagant appurtenances of the hymenealaltar, was to her taste.

  That picture in one of the illustrated papers which professed to givethe hymeneal altar at St. George's, with the Bishop and the Dean andtwo Queen's Chaplains officiating, and the bride and the bridegroomin all their glory, with a Royal Duke and a Royal Duchess lookingon, with all the Stars and all the Garters from our own and otherCourts, and especially with the bevy of twenty, standing in tendistinct pairs, and each from a portrait, was manifestly a work ofthe imagination. I was there, and to tell the truth, it was rathera huddled matter. The spaces did not seem to admit of majesticgrouping, and as three of these chief personages had the gout, thesticks of these lame gentlemen were to my eyes very conspicuous. Thebevy had not room enough, and the ladies in the crush seemed to feelthe intense heat. Something had made the Bishop cross. I am told thatLady Amaldina had determined not to be hurried, while the Bishop wasdue at an afternoon meeting at three. The artist, in creating thespecial work of art, had soared boldly into the ideal. In depictingthe buffet of presents and the bridal feast, he may probably havebeen more accurate. I was not myself present. The youthful appearanceof the bridegroom as he rose to make his speech may probably beattributed to a poetic license, permissible, nay laudable, naynecessary on such an occasion. The buffet of presents no doubt wasall there; though it may be doubted whether the contributions fromRoyalty were in truth so conspicuous as they were made to appear.There were speeches spoken by two or three Foreign Ministers, andone by the bride's father. But the speech which has created mostremark was from the bridegroom. "I hope we may be as happy as yourkind wishes would have us," said he;--and then he sat down. It wasdeclared afterwards that these were the only words which passed hislips on the occasion. To those who congratulated him he merely gavehis hand and bowed, and yet he looked to be neither fluttered nor illat ease. We know how a brave man will sit and have his tooth takenout, without a sign of pain on his brow,--trusting to the reliefwhich is to come to him. So it was with Lord Llwddythlw. It might,perhaps, have saved pain if, as Lady Amaldina had said, chloroformcould have been used.

  "Well, my dear, it is done at last," Lady Persiflage said to herdaughter, when the bride was taken into some chamber for thereadjustment of her dress.

  "Yes, mamma, it is done now."

  "And are you happy?"

  "Certainly I am. I have got what I wanted."

  "And you can love him?" Coming from Lady Persiflage this did seem tobe romantic; but she had been stirred up to some serious thoughts asshe remembered that she was now surrendering to a husband the girlwhom she had made, whom she had tutored, whom she had prepared eitherfor the good or for the evil performance of the duties of life.

  "Oh, yes, mamma," said Lady Amaldina. It is so often the case thatthe pupils are able to exceed the teaching of their tutors! It was soin this case. The mother, as she saw her girl given up to a silentmiddle-aged unattractive man, had her misgivings; but not so thedaughter herself. She had looked at it all round, and had resolvedthat she could do her duty--under certain stipulations which shethought would be accorded to her. "He has more to say for himselfthan you think;--only he won't trouble himself to make assertions.And if he is not very much in love, he likes me better than anybodyelse, which goes a long way." Her mother blessed her, and led heraway into a room where she joined her husband in order that she mightbe then taken down to the carriage.

  The bride herself had not quite understood what was to take place,and was surprised to find herself quite alone for a moment with herhusband. "My wife," he said; "now kiss me."

  She ran into his arms and put up her face to him. "I thought you weregoing to forget that," she said, as he held her for a moment with hisarm round her waist.

  "I could not dare," he said, "to handle all that gorgeous drapery oflace. You were dressed up then for an exhibition. You look now as mywife ought to look."

  "It had to be done, Llwddythlw."

  "I make no complaint, dearest. I only say that I like you betteras you are, as a girl to kiss, and to embrace, and to talk to, andto make my own." Then she curtsied to him prettily, and kissedhim again; and after that they walked out arm-in-arm down to thecarriage.

  There were many carriages drawn up within the quadrangle of which theForeign Office forms a part, but the carriage which was to take thebride and the bridegroom away was allowed a door to itself,--at anyrate till such time as they should have been taken away. An efforthad been made to keep the public out of the quadrangle; but as theduties of the four Secretaries of State could not be suspended, andas the great gates are supposed to make a public thoroughfare, thiscould only be done to a certain extent. The crowd, no doubt, wasthicker out in Downing Street, but there were very many standingwithin the square. Among these there was one, beautifully arrayedin frock coat and yellow gloves, almost as though he himself wasprepared for his own wedding. When Lord Llwddythlw brought LadyAmaldina out from the building and handed her into the carriage, andwhen the husband and wife had seated themselves, the well-dressedindividual raised his hat from his head, and greeted them. "Long lifeand happiness to the bride of Castle Hautboy!" said he at the top ofhis voice. Lady Amaldina could not but see the man, and, recognizinghim, she bowed.

  It was Crocker,--the
irrepressible Crocker. He had been also in thechurch. The narrator and he had managed to find standing room in aback pew under one of the galleries. Now would he be able to say withperfect truth that he had been at the wedding, and had received aparting salute from the bride; whom he had known through so manyyears of her infancy. He probably did believe that he was entitled tocount the future Duchess of Merioneth among his intimate friends.