Part 41 (1/2)

He was taking advantage of the cessation of dancing, to supply the aspiring musicians with sundry articles of good cheer. A rope, armed with a hook, was dropped from their lofty aerie, and promptly drawn up, on the youngster's obtaining from the neighbouring tents, wherewithal to fill satisfactorily the basket which he attached.

Sir Henry Delme and George had been so much abroad, and Emily's attachment to Clarendon was of so early a date, that it happened that the members of the Delme family had mixed little in the festivities of the county in which they resided; and were not intimately known, nor perhaps fully appreciated, in the neighbourhood.

But the family was one of high standing, and had ever been remarkable for its kind-heartedness; and what _was_ known of its individuals, was so much to their credit, that it kept alive the respect and consideration that these circ.u.mstances might of themselves warrant.

Sir Henry, on the other hand, regarded his sister's marriage as an event, at which it might be proper to show, that neither hauteur nor want of sociability, had precluded their friendly intercourse with the neighbouring magnates; and consequently, most of the princ.i.p.al families were present at Emily's wedding.

While this large a.s.semblage increased the gaiety of the scene, it was somewhat wearisome to Delme, 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 Delme'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.

”G.o.d bless you! dear Henry!”

”G.o.d 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 Acme,--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.

Sir Henry Delme was aroused by the sound of voices. A loving couple, too much engaged to observe _him_, pa.s.sed close to the summer-house.

It was the ”Queen of the May,” the prettiest and one of the poorest girls in the parish, walking arm in arm with her rural swain. They had left the ”roasted beeves,” and the ”broached casks,” for one half-hour's delicious converse.

There was some little coquettish resistance on the part of the girl, as they sat down together at the foot of a fir tree.

Her lover put his arm round her waist.

”Oh! Mary! if father would but give us a cow or so!”

This little incident decided the matter. Delme at once resolved that Mary Smith _should_ have a cow or so; and also that his own health would be greatly benefited, by a short sojourn at Leamington.

Chapter XV.

The Meeting.

”Oh ever loving, lovely, and beloved!

How selfish sorrow ponders on the past, And clings to thoughts now better far removed, But Time shall tear thy shadow from me last.”

We know not whether our readers have followed us with due attention, as we have incidentally, and at various intervals, made our brief allusion to the gradual change of character, wrought on Delme, by the eventful scenes in which he so lately played a prominent part.