CHAPTER XLVII
How the Bride Was Received, and Who Were Asked to the Wedding
And thus after all did Frank perform his great duty; he did marrymoney; or rather, as the wedding has not yet taken place, and is,indeed, as yet hardly talked of, we should more properly say thathe had engaged himself to marry money. And then, such a quantity ofmoney! The Scatcherd wealth greatly exceeded the Dunstable wealth; sothat our hero may be looked on as having performed his duties in amanner deserving the very highest commendation from all classes ofthe de Courcy connexion.
And he received it. But that was nothing. That _he_ should be fetedby the de Courcys and Greshams, now that he was about to do his dutyby his family in so exemplary a manner: that he should be patted onthe back, now that he no longer meditated that vile crime which hadbeen so abhorrent to his mother's soul; this was only natural; thisis hardly worthy of remark. But there was another to be feted,another person to be made a personage, another blessed human mortalabout to do her duty by the family of Gresham in a manner thatdeserved, and should receive, Lady Arabella's warmest caresses.
Dear Mary! It was, indeed, not singular that she should be preparedto act so well, seeing that in early youth she had had the advantageof an education in the Greshamsbury nursery; but not on that accountwas it the less fitting that her virtue should be acknowledged,eulogised, nay, all but worshipped.
How the party at the doctor's got itself broken up, I am not preparedto say. Frank, I know, stayed and dined there, and his poor mother,who would not retire to rest till she had kissed him, and blessedhim, and thanked him for all he was doing for the family, was keptwaiting in her dressing-room till a very unreasonable hour of thenight.
It was the squire who brought the news up to the house. "Arabella,"he said, in a low, but somewhat solemn voice, "you will be surprisedat the news I bring you. Mary Thorne is the heiress to all theScatcherd property!"
"Oh, heavens! Mr Gresham."
"Yes, indeed," continued the squire. "So it is; it is very, very--"But Lady Arabella had fainted. She was a woman who generally had herfeelings and her emotions much under her own control; but what shenow heard was too much for her. When she came to her senses, thefirst words that escaped her lips were, "Dear Mary!"
But the household had to sleep on the news before it could be fullyrealised. The squire was not by nature a mercenary man. If I have atall succeeded in putting his character before the reader, he will berecognised as one not over attached to money for money's sake. Butthings had gone so hard with him, the world had become so rough, soungracious, so full of thorns, the want of means had become an evilso keenly felt in every hour, that it cannot be wondered at that hisdreams that night should be of a golden elysium. The wealth was notcoming to him. True. But his chief sorrow had been for his son. Nowthat son would be his only creditor. It was as though mountains ofmarble had been taken from off his bosom.
But Lady Arabella's dreams flew away at once into the seventh heaven.Sordid as they certainly were, they were not absolutely selfish.Frank would now certainly be the first commoner in Barsetshire; ofcourse he would represent the county; of course there would be thehouse in town; it wouldn't be her house, but she was contented thatthe grandeur should be that of her child. He would have heavenknows what to spend per annum. And that it should come through MaryThorne! What a blessing she had allowed Mary to be brought into theGreshamsbury nursery! Dear Mary!
"She will of course be one now," said Beatrice to her sister. Withher, at the present moment, "one" of course meant one of the bevythat was to attend her at the altar. "Oh dear! how nice! I shan'tknow what to say to her to-morrow. But I know one thing."
"What is that?" asked Augusta.
"She will be as mild and as meek as a little dove. If she and thedoctor had lost every shilling in the world, she would have been asproud as an eagle." It must be acknowledged that Beatrice had had thewit to read Mary's character aright.
But Augusta was not quite pleased with the whole affair. Not thatshe begrudged her brother his luck, or Mary her happiness. But herideas of right and wrong--perhaps we should rather say Lady Amelia'sideas--would not be fairly carried out.
"After all, Beatrice, this does not alter her birth. I know it isuseless saying anything to Frank."
"Why, you wouldn't break both their hearts now?"
"I don't want to break their hearts, certainly. But there are thosewho put their dearest and warmest feelings under restraint ratherthan deviate from what they know to be proper." Poor Augusta! she wasthe stern professor of the order of this philosophy; the last in thefamily who practised with unflinching courage its cruel behests; thelast, always excepting the Lady Amelia.
And how slept Frank that night? With him, at least, let us hope, nay,let us say boldly, that his happiest thoughts were not of the wealthwhich he was to acquire. But yet it would be something to restoreBoxall Hill to Greshamsbury; something to give back to his fatherthose rumpled vellum documents, since the departure of which thesquire had never had a happy day; nay, something to come forth againto his friends as a gay, young country squire, instead of as afarmer, clod-compelling for his bread. We would not have him thoughtto be better than he was, nor would we wish him to make him of otherstuff than nature generally uses. His heart did exult at Mary'swealth; but it leaped higher still when he thought of purer joys.
And what shall we say of Mary's dreams? With her, it was altogetherwhat she should give, not at all what she should get. Frank had lovedher so truly when she was so poor, such an utter castaway; Frank, whohad ever been the heir of Greshamsbury! Frank, who with his beauty,and spirit, and his talents might have won the smiles of the richest,the grandest, the noblest! What lady's heart would not have rejoicedto be allowed to love her Frank? But he had been true to her througheverything. Ah! how often she thought of that hour, when suddenlyappearing before her, he had strained her to his breast, just as shehad resolved how best to bear the death-like chill of his supposedestrangements! She was always thinking of that time. She fed her loveby recurring over and over to the altered feeling of that moment. Anynow she could pay him for his goodness. Pay him! No, that would be abase word, a base thought. Her payment must be made, if God would sogrant it, in many, many years to come. But her store, such as it was,should be emptied into his lap. It was soothing to her pride that shewould not hurt him by her love, that she would bring no injury to theold house. "Dear, dear Frank" she murmured, as her waking dreams,conquered at last by sleep, gave way to those of the fairy world.
But she thought not only of Frank; dreamed not only of him. What hadhe not done for her, that uncle of hers, who had been more loving toher than any father! How was he, too, to be paid? Paid, indeed! Lovecan only be paid in its own coin: it knows of no other legal tender.Well, if her home was to be Greshamsbury, at any rate she would notbe separated from him.
What the doctor dreamed of that, neither he or any one ever knew."Why, uncle, I think you've been asleep," said Mary to him thatevening as he moved for a moment uneasily on the sofa. He had beenasleep for the last three-quarters of an hour;--but Frank, his guest,had felt no offence. "No, I've not been exactly asleep," said he;"but I'm very tired. I wouldn't do it all again, Frank, to double themoney. You haven't got any more tea, have you, Mary?"
On the following morning, Beatrice was of course with her friend.There was no awkwardness between them in meeting. Beatrice had lovedher when she was poor, and though they had not lately thought alikeon one very important subject, Mary was too gracious to impute thatto Beatrice as a crime.
"You will be one now, Mary; of course you will."
"If Lady Arabella will let me come."
"Oh, Mary; let you! Do you remember what you said once about coming,and being near me? I have so often thought of it. And now, Mary, Imust tell you about Caleb;" and the young lady settled herself on thesofa, so as to have a comfortable long talk. Beatrice had been quiteright. Mary was as meek with her, and as mild as a dove.
And then Patience Oriel came. "My
fine, young, darling, magnificent,overgrown heiress," said Patience, embracing her. "My breath desertedme, and I was nearly stunned when I heard of it. How small we shallall be, my dear! I am quite prepared to toady to you immensely; butpray be a little gracious to me, for the sake of auld lang syne."
Mary gave a long, long kiss. "Yes, for auld lang syne, Patience; whenyou took me away under your wing to Richmond." Patience also hadloved her when she was in her trouble, and that love, too, shouldnever be forgotten.
But the great difficulty was Lady Arabella's first meeting with her."I think I'll go down to her after breakfast," said her ladyship toBeatrice, as the two were talking over the matter while the motherwas finishing her toilet.
"I am sure she will come up if you like it, mamma."
"She is entitled to every courtesy--as Frank's accepted bride, youknow," said Lady Arabella. "I would not for worlds fail in anyrespect to her for his sake."
"He will be glad enough for her to come, I am sure," said Beatrice."I was talking with Caleb this morning, and he says--"
The matter was of importance, and Lady Arabella gave it her mostmature consideration. The manner of receiving into one's family anheiress whose wealth is to cure all one's difficulties, disperseall one's troubles, give a balm to all the wounds of misfortune,must, under any circumstances, be worthy of much care. But when thatheiress has been already treated as Mary had been treated!
"I must see her, at any rate, before I go to Courcy." said LadyArabella.
"Are you going to Courcy, mamma?"
"Oh, certainly; yes, I must see my sister-in-law now. You don't seemto realise the importance, my dear, of Frank's marriage. He will bein a great hurry about it, and, indeed, I cannot blame him. I expectthat they will all come here."
"Who, mamma? the de Courcys?"
"Yes, of course. I shall be very much surprised if the earl does notcome now. And I must consult my sister-in-law as to asking the Dukeof Omnium."
Poor Mary!
"And I think it will perhaps be better," continued Lady Arabella,"that we should have a larger party than we intended at your affair.The countess, I'm sure, would come now. We couldn't put it off forten days; could we, dear?"
"Put it off ten days!"
"Yes; it would be convenient."
"I don't think Mr Oriel would like that at all, mamma. You know hehas made all his arrangements for his Sundays--"
Pshaw! The idea of the parson's Sundays being allowed to have anybearing on such a matter as Frank's wedding would now become! Why,they would have--how much? Between twelve and fourteen thousand ayear! Lady Arabella, who had made her calculations a dozen timesduring the night, had never found it to be much less than the largersum. Mr Oriel's Sundays, indeed!
After much doubt, Lady Arabella acceded to her daughter's suggestion,that Mary should be received at Greshamsbury instead of being calledon at the doctor's house. "If you think she won't mind the comingup first," said her ladyship. "I certainly could receive her betterhere. I should be more--more--more able, you know, to express what Ifeel. We had better go into the big drawing-room to-day, Beatrice.Will you remember to tell Mrs Richards?"
"Oh, certainly," was Mary's answer when Beatrice, with a voice alittle trembling, proposed to her to walk up to the house. "CertainlyI will, if Lady Arabella will receive me;--only one thing, Trichy."
"What's that, dearest?"
"Frank will think that I come after him."
"Never mind what he thinks. To tell you the truth, Mary, I often callupon Patience for the sake of finding Caleb. That's all fair now, youknow."
Mary very quietly put on her straw bonnet, and said she was readyto go up to the house. Beatrice was a little fluttered, and showedit. Mary was, perhaps, a good deal fluttered, but she did not showit. She had thought a good deal of her first interview with LadyArabella, of her first return to the house; but she had resolvedto carry herself as though the matter were easy to her. She wouldnot allow it to be seen that she felt that she brought with her toGreshamsbury, comfort, ease, and renewed opulence.
So she put on her straw bonnet and walked up with Beatrice. Everybodyabout the place had already heard the news. The old woman at thelodge curtsied low to her; the gardener, who was mowing the lawn; thebutler, who opened the front door--he must have been watching Mary'sapproach--had manifestly put on a clean white neckcloth for theoccasion.
"God bless you once more, Miss Thorne!" said the old man, in ahalf-whisper. Mary was somewhat troubled, for everything seemed,in a manner, to bow down before her. And why should not everythingbow down before her, seeing that she was in truth the owner ofGreshamsbury?
And then a servant in livery would open the big drawing-room door.This rather upset both Mary and Beatrice. It became almost impossiblefor Mary to enter the room just as she would have done two years ago;but she got through the difficulty with much self-control.
"Mamma, here's Mary," said Beatrice.
Nor was Lady Arabella quite mistress of herself, although she hadstudied minutely how to bear herself.
"Oh, Mary, my dear Mary; what can I say to you?" and then, with ahandkerchief to her eyes, she ran forward and hid her face on MissThorne's shoulders. "What can I say--can you forgive me my anxietyfor my son?"
"How do you do, Lady Arabella?" said Mary.
"My daughter! my child! my Frank's own bride! Oh, Mary! oh, my child!If I have seemed unkind to you, it has been through love to him."
"All these things are over now," said Mary. "Mr Gresham told meyesterday that I should be received as Frank's future wife; and so,you see, I have come." And then she slipped through Lady Arabella'sarms, and sat down, meekly down, on a chair. In five minutes shehad escaped with Beatrice into the school-room, and was kissing thechildren, and turning over the new trousseau. They were, however,soon interrupted, and there was, perhaps, some other kissing besidesthat of the children.
"You have no business in here at all, Frank," said Beatrice. "Has he,Mary?"
"None in the world, I should think."
"See what he has done to my poplin; I hope you won't have your thingstreated so cruelly. He'll be careful enough about them."
"Is Oriel a good hand at packing up finery--eh, Beatrice?" askedFrank.
"He is, at any rate, too well-behaved to spoil it." Thus Mary wasagain made at home in the household of Greshamsbury.
Lady Arabella did not carry out her little plan of delaying the Orielwedding. Her idea had been to add some grandeur to it, in order tomake it a more fitting precursor of that other greater wedding whichwas to follow so soon in its wake. But this, with the assistance ofthe countess, she found herself able to do without interfering withpoor Mr Oriel's Sunday arrangements. The countess herself, with theLadies Alexandrina and Margaretta, now promised to come, even to thisfirst affair; and for the other, the whole de Courcy family wouldturn out, count and countess, lords and ladies, Honourable Georgesand Honourable Johns. What honour, indeed, could be too great to showto a bride who had fourteen thousand a year in her own right, or to acousin who had done his duty by securing such a bride to himself!
"If the duke be in the country, I am sure he will be happy to come,"said the countess. "Of course, he will be talking to Frank aboutpolitics. I suppose the squire won't expect Frank to belong to theold school now."
"Frank, of course, will judge for himself, Rosina;--with hisposition, you know!" And so things were settled at Courcy Castle.
And then Beatrice was wedded and carried off to the Lakes. Mary, asshe had promised, did stand near her; but not exactly in the ginghamfrock of which she had once spoken. She wore on that occasion-- Butit will be too much, perhaps, to tell the reader what she wore asBeatrice's bridesmaid, seeing that a couple of pages, at least, mustbe devoted to her marriage-dress, and seeing, also, that we have onlya few pages to finish everything; the list of visitors, the marriagesettlements, the dress, and all included.
It was in vain that Mary endeavoured to repress Lady Arabella'sardour for grand doings. After all, she was to be
married from thedoctor's house, and not from Greshamsbury, and it was the doctorwho should have invited the guests; but, in this matter, he did notchoose to oppose her ladyship's spirit, and she had it all her ownway.
"What can I do?" said he to Mary. "I have been contradicting her ineverything for the last two years. The least we can do is to let herhave her own way now in a trifle like this."
But there was one point on which Mary would let nobody have his orher own way; on which the way to be taken was very manifestly to beher own. This was touching the marriage settlements. It must not besupposed, that if Beatrice were married on a Tuesday, Mary could bemarried on the Tuesday week following. Ladies with twelve thousand ayear cannot be disposed of in that way: and bridegrooms who do theirduty by marrying money often have to be kept waiting. It was spring,the early spring, before Frank was made altogether a happy man.
But a word about the settlements. On this subject the doctor thoughthe would have been driven mad. Messrs Slow & Bideawhile, as thelawyers of the Greshamsbury family--it will be understood that MrGazebee's law business was of quite a different nature, and hiswork, as regarded Greshamsbury, was now nearly over--Messrs Slow &Bideawhile declared that it would never do for them to undertakealone to draw out the settlements. An heiress, such as Mary, musthave lawyers of her own; half a dozen at least, according to theapparent opinion of Messrs Slow & Bideawhile. And so the doctor hadto go to other lawyers, and they had again to consult Sir Abraham,and Mr Snilam on a dozen different heads.
If Frank became tenant in tail, in right of his wife, but under hisfather, would he be able to grant leases for more than twenty-oneyears? and, if so, to whom would the right of trover belong? As toflotsam and jetsam--there was a little property, Mr Critic, on thesea-shore--that was a matter that had to be left unsettled at thelast. Such points as these do take a long time to consider. Allthis bewildered the doctor sadly, and Frank himself began to makeaccusations that he was to be done out of his wife altogether.
But, as we have said, there was one point on which Mary would haveher own way. The lawyers might tie up as they would on her behalf allthe money, and shares, and mortgages which had belonged to the lateSir Roger, with this exception, all that had ever appertained toGreshamsbury should belong to Greshamsbury again; not in perspective,not to her children, or to her children's children, but at once.Frank should be lord of Boxall Hill in his own right; and as to thoseother _liens_ on Greshamsbury, let Frank manage that with his fatheras he might think fit. She would only trouble herself to see that hewas empowered to do as he did think fit.
"But," argued the ancient, respectable family attorney to the doctor,"that amounts to two-thirds of the whole estate. Two-thirds, DrThorne! It is preposterous; I should almost say impossible." And thescanty hairs on the poor man's head almost stood on end as he thoughtof the outrageous manner in which the heiress prepared to sacrificeherself.
"It will all be the same in the end," said the doctor, trying to makethings smooth. "Of course, their joint object will be to put theGreshamsbury property together again."
"But, my dear sir,"--and then, for twenty minutes, the lawyerwent on proving that it would by no means be the same thing; but,nevertheless, Mary Thorne did have her own way.
In the course of the winter, Lady de Courcy tried very hard to inducethe heiress to visit Courcy Castle, and this request was so backed byLady Arabella, that the doctor said he thought she might as well gothere for three or four days. But here, again, Mary was obstinate.
"I don't see it at all," she said. "If you make a point of it,or Frank, or Mr Gresham, I will go; but I can't see any possiblereason." The doctor, when so appealed to, would not absolutely saythat he made a point of it, and Mary was tolerably safe as regardedFrank or the squire. If she went, Frank would be expected to go, andFrank disliked Courcy Castle almost more than ever. His aunt was nowmore than civil to him, and, when they were together, never ceased tocompliment him on the desirable way in which he had done his duty byhis family.
And soon after Christmas a visitor came to Mary, and stayed afortnight with her: one whom neither she nor the doctor had expected,and of whom they had not much more than heard. This was the famousMiss Dunstable. "Birds of a feather flock together," said MrsRantaway--late Miss Gushing--when she heard of the visit. "Therailway man's niece--if you can call her a niece--and the quack'sdaughter will do very well together, no doubt."
"At any rate, they can count their money-bags," said Mrs Umbleby.
And in fact, Mary and Miss Dunstable did get on very well together;and Miss Dunstable made herself quite happy at Greshamsbury, althoughsome people--including Mrs Rantaway--contrived to spread a report,that Dr Thorne, jealous of Mary's money, was going to marry her.
"I shall certainly come and see you turned off," said Miss Dunstable,taking leave of her new friend. Miss Dunstable, it must beacknowledged, was a little too fond of slang; but then, a lady withher fortune, and of her age, may be fond of almost whatever shepleases.
And so by degrees the winter wore away--very slowly to Frank, as hedeclared often enough; and slowly, perhaps, to Mary also, though shedid not say so. The winter wore away, and the chill, bitter, windy,early spring came round. The comic almanacs give us dreadful picturesof January and February; but, in truth, the months which should bemade to look gloomy in England are March and April. Let no man boasthimself that he has got through the perils of winter till at leastthe seventh of May.
It was early in April, however, that the great doings were to be doneat Greshamsbury. Not exactly on the first. It may be presumed, thatin spite of the practical, common-sense spirit of the age, very fewpeople do choose to have themselves united on that day. But someday in the first week of that month was fixed for the ceremony, andfrom the end of February all through March, Lady Arabella worked andstrove in a manner that entitled her to profound admiration.
It was at last settled that the breakfast should be held in the largedining-room at Greshamsbury. There was a difficulty about it whichtaxed Lady Arabella to the utmost, for, in making the proposition,she could not but seem to be throwing some slight on the house inwhich the heiress had lived. But when the affair was once opened toMary, it was astonishing how easy it became.
"Of course," said Mary, "all the rooms in our house would not holdhalf the people you are talking about--if they must come."
Lady Arabella looked so beseechingly, nay, so piteously, that Maryhad not another word to say. It was evident that they must all come:the de Courcys to the fifth generation the Duke of Omnium himself,and others in concatenation accordingly.
"But will your uncle be angry if we have the breakfast up here? Hehas been so very handsome to Frank, that I wouldn't make him angryfor all the world."
"If you don't tell him anything about it, Lady Arabella, he'll thinkthat it is all done properly. He will never know, if he's not told,that he ought to give the breakfast, and not you."
"Won't he, my dear?" And Lady Arabella looked her admiration for thisvery talented suggestion. And so that matter was arranged. The doctornever knew, till Mary told him some year or so afterwards, that hehad been remiss in any part of his duty.
And who was asked to the wedding? In the first place, we have saidthat the Duke of Omnium was there. This was, in fact, the onecircumstance that made this wedding so superior to any other thathad ever taken place in that neighbourhood. The Duke of Omnium neverwent anywhere; and yet he went to Mary's wedding! And Mary, whenthe ceremony was over, absolutely found herself kissed by a duke."Dearest Mary!" exclaimed Lady Arabella, in her ecstasy of joy, whenshe saw the honour that was done to her daughter-in-law.
"I hope we shall induce you to come to Gatherum Castle soon," saidthe duke to Frank. "I shall be having a few friends there in theautumn. Let me see; I declare, I have not seen you since you weregood enough to come to my collection. Ha! ha! ha! It wasn't bad fun,was it?" Frank was not very cordial with his answer. He had not quitereconciled himself to the difference of his position. When he wastreated as one of the
"collection" at Gatherum Castle, he had notmarried money.
It would be vain to enumerate all the de Courcys that were there.There was the earl, looking very gracious, and talking to thesquire about the county. And there was Lord Porlock, looking veryungracious, and not talking to anybody about anything. And there wasthe countess, who for the last week past had done nothing but patFrank on the back whenever she could catch him. And there were theLadies Alexandrina, Margaretta, and Selina, smiling at everybody.And the Honourable George, talking in whispers to Frank about hiswidow--"Not such a catch as yours, you know; but something extremelysnug;--and have it all my own way, too, old fellow, or I shan't cometo the scratch." And the Honourable John prepared to toady Frankabout his string of hunters; and the Lady Amelia, by herself, notquite contented with these democratic nuptials--"After all, she is soabsolutely nobody; absolutely, absolutely," she said confidentiallyto Augusta, shaking her head. But before Lady Amelia had leftGreshamsbury, Augusta was quite at a loss to understand how therecould be need for so much conversation between her cousin and MrMortimer Gazebee.
And there were many more de Courcys, whom to enumerate would be muchtoo long.
And the bishop of the diocese, and Mrs Proudie were there. A hinthad even been given, that his lordship would himself condescend toperform the ceremony, if this should be wished; but that work hadalready been anticipated by a very old friend of the Greshams.Archdeacon Grantly, the rector of Plumstead Episcopi, had long sinceundertaken this part of the business; and the knot was eventuallytied by the joint efforts of himself and Mr Oriel. Mrs Grantly camewith him, and so did Mrs Grantly's sister, the new dean's wife. Thedean himself was at the time unfortunately absent at Oxford.
And all the Bakers and the Jacksons were there. The last time theyhad all met together under the squire's roof, was on the occasion ofFrank's coming of age. The present gala doings were carried on in avery different spirit. That had been a very poor affair, but this wasworthy of the best days of Greshamsbury.
Occasion also had been taken of this happy moment to make up, orrather to get rid of the last shreds of the last feud that had solong separated Dr Thorne from his own relatives. The Thornes ofUllathorne had made many overtures in a covert way. But our doctorhad contrived to reject them. "They would not receive Mary as theircousin," said he, "and I will go nowhere that she cannot go." But nowall this was altered. Mrs Gresham would certainly be received in anyhouse in the county. And thus, Mr Thorne of Ullathorne, an amiable,popular old bachelor, came to the wedding; and so did his maidensister, Miss Monica Thorne, than whose no kinder heart glowed throughall Barsetshire.
"My dear," said she to Mary, kissing her, and offering her somelittle tribute, "I am very glad to make your acquaintance; very. Itwas not her fault," she added, speaking to herself. "And now thatshe will be a Gresham, that need not be any longer thought of."Nevertheless, could Miss Thorne have spoken her inward thoughts outloud, she would have declared, that Frank would have done better tohave borne his poverty than marry wealth without blood. But then,there are but few so stanch as Miss Thorne; perhaps none in thatcounty--always excepting Lady Amelia.
And Miss Dunstable, also, was a bridesmaid. "Oh, no" said she, whenasked; "you should have them young and pretty." But she gave way whenshe found that Mary did not flatter her by telling her that she waseither the one or the other. "The truth is," said Miss Dunstable, "Ihave always been a little in love with your Frank, and so I shall doit for his sake." There were but four: the other two were the Greshamtwins. Lady Arabella exerted herself greatly in framing hints toinduce Mary to ask some of the de Courcy ladies to do her so muchhonour; but on this head Mary would please herself. "Rank," said sheto Beatrice, with a curl on her lip, "has its drawbacks--and must putup with them."
And now I find that I have not one page--not half a page--for thewedding-dress. But what matters? Will it not be all found written inthe columns of the _Morning Post_?
And thus Frank married money, and became a great man. Let us hopethat he will be a happy man. As the time of the story has beenbrought down so near to the present era, it is not practicable forthe novelist to tell much of his future career. When I last heardfrom Barsetshire, it seemed to be quite settled that he is to takethe place of one of the old members at the next election and theysay, also, that there is no chance of any opposition. I have heard,too, that there have been many very private consultations between himand various gentlemen of the county, with reference to the hunt; andthe general feeling is said to be that the hounds should go to BoxallHill.
At Boxall Hill the young people established themselves on theirreturn from the Continent. And that reminds me that one word must besaid of Lady Scatcherd.
"You will always stay here with us," said Mary to her, caressing herladyship's rough hand, and looking kindly into that kind face.
But Lady Scatcherd would not consent to this. "I will come and seeyou sometimes, and then I shall enjoy myself. Yes, I will come andsee you, and my own dear boy." The affair was ended by her taking MrsOpie Green's cottage, in order that she might be near the doctor; MrsOpie Green having married--somebody.
And of whom else must we say a word? Patience, also, of course, gota husband--or will do so. Dear Patience! it would be a thousandpities that so good a wife should be lost to the world. Whether MissDunstable will ever be married, or Augusta Gresham, or Mr Moffat, orany of the tribe of the de Courcys--except Lady Amelia--I cannot say.They have all of them still their future before them. That Bridgetwas married to Thomas--that I am able to assert; for I know thatJanet was much put out by their joint desertion.
Lady Arabella has not yet lost her admiration for Mary, and Mary,in return, behaves admirably. Another event is expected, and herladyship is almost as anxious about that as she was about thewedding. "A matter, you know, of such importance in the county!" shewhispered to Lady de Courcy.
Nothing can be more happy than the intercourse between the squire andhis son. What their exact arrangements are, we need not speciallyinquire; but the demon of pecuniary embarrassment has lifted hisblack wings from the demesne of Greshamsbury.
And now we have but one word left for the doctor. "If you don'tcome and dine with me," said the squire to him, when they foundthemselves both deserted, "mind I shall come and dine with you." Andon this principle they seem to act. Dr Thorne continues to extendhis practice, to the great disgust of Dr Fillgrave; and when Marysuggested to him that he should retire, he almost boxed her ears. Heknows the way, however, to Boxall Hill as well as he ever did, and iswilling to acknowledge, that the tea there is almost as good as itever was at Greshamsbury.
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