Lady Cecilia late one afternoon entered her dressing-room pale and dispirited, as had been latterly her wont; and, with a deep sigh, sank into her easy-chair. Annette, on her Ladyship's entrance, was leaning against the window frame, reading a book, which she immediately closed and laid down. "What are you reading there?" inquired Lady Cecilia, languidly.
"Oh, nothing particular, my Lady!" replied Annette, coloring a little; "it was only the prayer-book. I was looking at the marriage-service, my Lady. I wanted to see what it was that your Ladyship has to say"–
"It's not very amusing, Annette. I think it very dull and stupid—and you might have been better employed!"
"La, my Lady—now I should have thought it quite interesting, if I had been in your La'ship's situation!"
"Well, what is it that they expect me to repeat?"
"Oh! I'll read it, my Lady—here it is," replied Annette, and read as follows:—
"Then shall the priest say unto the woman, 'N, wilt thou have this man to be thy wedded husband, to live together, after God's ordinance, in the holy state of matrimony? Wilt thou obey him, serve him, love, honor, and keep him, in sickness and in health, and, forsaking all other, keep thee only unto him, so long as ye both shall live?'
"The woman shall answer, 'I will.'"
"Well—it's only a form, you know, Annette—and I dare say no one ever gives it a thought," said Lady Cecilia, struggling to suppress a sigh.
"Then," continued Annette, "your La'ship will have to say a good deal after the parson—but I beg your La'ship's pardon—it's (in your case) the bishop. Here it is:
"'I, N, take thee, M, to be my wedded husband, to have and to hold, from this day forward, for better for worse, for richer for poorer, in sickness and in health, to love, cherish'"–
"Yes, yes—I hear," interrupted Lady Cecilia, faintly, turning pale; "I know it all; that will do, Annette" —
"There's only a word more, my Lady:—
"'And obey, till death us do part, according to God's holy ordinance; and thereto I give thee my troth.'
"All this your La'ship says, with your right hand holding Mr. Titmouse's."
Here a visible tremor passed through Lady Cecilia. "You may leave me alone, Annette, a little while," said she; "I don't feel quite well."
"La, my Lady, a'n't your La'ship late, already? Your La'ship knows how early her Grace dines ever since her illness."
"There's plenty of time; I'll ring for you when I want you. And—stay—you may as well leave your prayer-book with me for a moment—it will amuse me to look in it." Annette did as she was bid; and the next moment her melancholy mistress was alone. She did not, however, open the book she had asked for, but fell into a revery, which was disturbed some time afterwards, only by her maid tapping at the door; and who, on entering, told her that she had not one moment to lose; that his Lordship had been dressed for some time. On this her Ladyship rose, and commenced her toilet with a very deep sigh.
"Your La'ship, I suppose, wears your gold-colored satin? it matches so well with the pearls," said Annette, going to the jewel-case.
"I sha'n't wear any pearls to-day."
"Oh! my Lady! not that beautiful spray of Mr. Titmouse's? Your La'ship does look so well in it!"
"I sha'n't wear anything of Mr. Tit—I mean," she added, coloring, "I sha'n't wear anything in my hair to-day!"
Many and anxious, it may be easily believed, had been the conferences and negotiations between the earl, Mr. Gammon, and Mr. Titmouse, with reference to the state of his property, and the settlement to be made on Lady Cecilia. It appeared that the extent of the encumbrances on the Yatton property was £35,000, and which Gammon had many ways of accounting for, without disclosing the amount of plunder which had fallen to the share of the firm—or rather to the senior partner. The interest on this sum (viz. £1,750) would reduce Mr. Titmouse's present income to £8,250 per annum; but Gammon pledged himself that the rental of the estates could, with the greatest ease, be raised to £12,000, and that measures, in fact, were already in progress to effect so desirable a result. Then there was a sum of £20,000 due to Mr. Titmouse from Mr. Aubrey, on account of the mesne profits, £10,000 of which was guaranteed by Lord De la Zouch, and would very shortly become payable with interest; and the remaining £10,000 could be at any time called in. The sum finally determined upon, as a settlement upon Lady Cecilia, was £3,000 a-year—surely a very substantial "consideration" for the "faithful promise" to be, by-and-by, made by her at the altar—and which, moreover, she conceived she had a prospect of having entirely to herself—really "for her separate use, exempt from the control, debts, and engagements of her said intended husband." I am sorry to say that Lady Cecilia clung to the prospect of an almost immediate separation; which, she learned from several confidential friends, some of whom were qualified, by personal experience, to offer an opinion, was a very easy matter, becoming daily more frequent on the ground of incompatibility of temper. A faint hint of the kind which she had once dropped to Miss Macspleuchan, was received in such a manner as prevented Lady Cecilia from ever repeating it. As for the earl, her father, I cannot say that he did not observe a depression of spirits in his daughter, increasing with the increasing proximity of her marriage. Since, however, he had entirely reconciled himself to it—and was delighted at the approaching long-coveted reunion of the family interests—he did not think of her having any real objection to the arrangements. As for her lowness of spirits, and nervousness, doubtless—his Lordship considered—every woman on the point of being married, experienced similar feelings. She herself, indeed, seldom if ever named the matter to her father in such a way as to occasion him uneasiness. In short, the affair seemed to be going on just as it ought to do; and even had it assumed an untoward aspect, circumstances had arisen which would have prevented the earl from giving his wonted attention to what in any degree concerned his daughter. In the first place, on his Lordship's party coming into power, to his infinite amazement his old post of Lord High Steward was filled up by some one else! So also was the office of Lord President of the Council; and so, moreover, was every other official post; and that, too, without any apology to the offended peer, or explanation of such a phenomenon as his entire exclusion from office. The Premier had, in fact, never once thought of his Lordship while forming his administration; and on being subsequently remonstrated with by a venerable peer, a common friend of the Premier and Lord Dreddlington, the Premier very calmly and blandly expressed his regret that Lord Dreddlington had not given him notice of his being still—"even in his advanced years"—disposed to hold office; and trusted that he should yet be able, and before any long time should have elapsed, to avail himself of the very valuable services "of my Lord Dreddlington." This was all that he could get from the courteous but marble-hearted Premier; and, for a long while, the earl could think of only one mode of soothing his wounded feelings—viz. going about to his friends, and demonstrating that the new Lord Steward and the new Lord President were every day displaying their unfitness for office; and that the only error committed by the Premier, in the difficult and responsible task of forming a government, was that of selecting two such individuals as he had appointed to those distinguished posts. He was also greatly comforted and supported, at this period of vexation and disappointment, by the manly and indignant sympathy of—Mr. Gammon, who had succeeded