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"My dear child, don't learn to tell lies. You don't care two pence for Sir Sampson. I know all. You are going to be married to Charles Lennox. I'm glad of it. I wished you to marry him. Whether you'll thank me for that twenty years hence, I can't tell—you can't tell—he can't tell—God knows—humph! Your aunts will tell you he is Beelzebub, because his father said he could make a Sir Sampson out of a mouldy lemon. Perhaps he could. I don't know but your aunts are fools. You know what fools are, and so do I. There are plenty of fools in the world; but if they had not been sent for some wise purpose they wouldn't have been here; and since they are here they have as good a right to have elbow-room in the world as the wisest. Sir Sampson hated General Lennox because he laughed at him; and if Sir Sampson had lived a hundred years ago, his hatred might have been a fine thing to talk about now. It is the same passion that makes heroes of your De Montforts, and your Manuels, and your Corsairs, and all the rest of them; but they wore cloaks and daggers, and these are the supporters of hatred. Everybody laughs at the hatred of a little old man in a cocked hat. You may laugh too. So now, God bless you! Continue as you are, and marry the man you like, though the world should set its teeth against you. 'Tis not every woman can be trusted to do that—farewell!" And with a cordial salute they parted.
Mary was too well accustomed to Lady Maclaughlan's style not to comprehend that her marriage with Colonel Lennox was an event she had long wished for and now most warmly sanctioned; and she hastened home to convey the glad tidings in a letter to her aunts, though doubtful if the truth itself would be able to pierce its way through their prejudices.
Another stroke of palsy soon rendered Sir Sampson unconscious even to the charms of Grizzy's conversation, and as she was no longer of use to him, and was evidently at a loss how to employ herself, Mary proposed that she should accompany her back to Lochmarlie, to which she yielded a joyful assent. Once convinced of Lady Maclaughlan's approbation of her niece's marriage she could think and talk of nothing else.
Some wise individuals have thought that most people act from the inspiration of either a good or an evil power: to which class Miss Grizzy belonged would have puzzled the most profound metaphysician to determine. She was, in fact, a Maclaughlanite; but to find the root of Maclaughlan is another difficulty—thought is lost.
Colonel Lennox, although a little startled at his first introduction to his future aunt, soon came to understand the naivete of her character; and his enlarged mind and good temper made such ample allowance for her weaknesses, that she protested, with tears in her eyes, she never knew the like of him—she never could think enough of him. She wished to goodness Sir Sampson was himself again, and could only see him; she was sure he would think just as she did, etc. etc. etc.
The day of Lady Emily's marriage arrived, and found her in a more serious mood than she had hitherto appeared in; though it seemed doubtful whether it was most occasioned by her own prospects or the thoughts of parting with Mary, who with Aunt Grizzy, was to set off for Lochmarlie immediately after witnessing the ceremony. Edward and his bride would fain have accompanied her; but Lord Courtland was too much accustomed to his daughter and amused by his nephew to bear their absence, and they therefore yielded the point, though with reluctance. "This is all for want of a little opposition to have braced my nerves," said Lady Emily, as she dropped a few tears. "I verily believe I should have wept outright had I not happily descried Dr. Redgill shrugging his shoulders at me; that has given a filip to my spirits. After all, 'tis perhaps a foolish action I've committed. The icy bonds of matrimony are upon me already; I feel myself turning into a fond, faithful, rational, humble, meek-spirited wife! Alas! I must now turn my head into a museum, and hang up all my smart sayings inside my brain, there to petrify, as warnings to all pert misses. Dear Mary! if ever I am good for anything, it will be to you I owe it!"
Mary could only embrace her cousin in silence, as she parted from her brother and her with the deepest emotion, and, assisted by Colonel Lennox (who was to follow), took her station by the side of her aunt.
"I wish you a pleasant journey, Miss Mary," cried Dr. Redgill. "The game season is coming on, and—" But the carriage drove off; and the rest of the sentence was dispersed by the wind; and all that could be collected was, "grouse always acceptable—friends at a distance—roebuck stuffed with heather carries well at all times," etc. etc.
To one less practised in her ways, and less gifted with patience, the eternal babbling of Aunt Grizzy as a travelling companion would have occasioned considerable ennui, if not spleen. There are perhaps few greater trials of temper than that of travelling with a person who thinks it necessary to be actively pleasant, without a moment's intermission, from the rising till the setting sun. Grizzy was upon this fatal plan, the rock of thousands! Silence she thought synonymous with low spirits; and she talked, and wondered, and exclaimed incessantly, and assured Mary she need not be uneasy, she was certain Colonel Lennox would follow very soon; she had not the least doubt of that. She would not be surprised if he Was to be at Lochmarlie almost as soon as themselves; at any rate very soon after them.
But even these little torments were forgot by Mary when she found herself again in her native land. The hills, the air, the waters, the people, even the peat-stacks, had a charm that touched her heart, and brought tears into her eyes as they pictured home. But her feelings arose to rapture when Lochmarlie burst upon her view in all the grandeur, beauty, and repose of a setting sun, shedding its farewell rays of gold and purple, and tints of such matchless hue, as no pencil ere can imitate—no poet's pen describe. Rocks, woods, hills, and waters, all shone with a radiance that seemed of more than earthly beauty. "Oh, there are moments in life, keen, blissful, never to be forgotten!" and such was the moment to Mary when the carriage stopped, and she again heard the melody of that voice familiar from infancy—and looked on the face known with her being—and was pressed to that heart where glowed a parent's love!
When Mary recovered from the first almost agonising transports of joy, she marked with delight the increased animation and cheerfulness visible in Mrs. Douglas. All the livelier feelings of her warm heart had indeed been excited and brought into action by the spirit and playfulness of her little boy, and the increased happiness of her husband; while all her uneasiness respecting her former lover was now at an end. She had heard from himself that he had married, and was happy. Without being guilty of inconstancy, such are the effects of time upon mutable human nature!
Colonel Lennox lost no time in arriving to claim his promised bride; and Mary's happiness was complete when she found her own choice so warmly approved of by the friends she loved.
The three aunts and their unmarried nieces, now the sole inhabitants of Glenfern Castle, were not quite decided in their opinions at first. Miss Jacky looked with a suspicious eye upon the mortal enemy of the Maclaughlan race; but, upon better acquaintance, his gaiety and good-humour contrived to charm asleep even her good sense and prejudices, and she pronounced him to be a pleasant, well-informed young man, who gave himself no airs, although he certainly had rather a high look.
Nicky doubted, from his appearance, that he would be nice, and she had no patience with nice men; but Nicky's fears vanished when she saw, as she expressed it, "how pleasantly he ate the sheep's head, although he had never seen one in his life before."
The younger ladies thought Captain M'Nab had a finer complexion, and wondered whether Colonel Lennox (like him) would be dressed in full regimentals at his marriage.
But, alas! "all earthly good still blends itself with harm," for on the day of Mary's marriage—a day consecrated to mirth, and bride-cake, and wedding favors, and marriage presents, and good cheer, and reels, and revelry, and bagpipes—on that very day, when the marriage ceremony was scarcely over, arrived the accounts of the death of Sir Sampson Maclaughlan! But on this joyous day even Grizzy's tears did not flow so freely as they would have done at another time; and she declared that although it was impossible anybody could feel more than she did, yet certainly it would not be using Colonel and Mrs. Lennox well to be very distressed upon such an occasion; and there was no doubt but she would have plenty of time to be sorry about it yet, when they were all sitting quietly by themselves, with nothing else in their heads; though, to be sure, they must always think what a blessing it was that Colonel Lennox was to succeed.
"I wish he may ever fill Sir Sampson's shoes!" said Miss Nicky, with a sigh.
"Colonel Lennox cannot propose a better model to himself than Sir Sampson Maclaughlan," said Miss Jacky. "He has left him a noble example of propriety, frugality, hospitality, and respectability; and, above all, of forgiveness of his mortal enemies."
"Oh, Mary!" exclaimed Miss Grizzy, as they were about to part with their niece, "what a lucky creature you are! Never, I am sure, did any young person set out in life with such advantages. To think of your succeeding to Lady Maclaughlan's laboratory, all so nicely fitted up with every kind of thing, and especially plenty of the most charming bark, which, I'm sure, will do Colonel Lennox the greatest good, as you know all officers are much the better of bark. I know it was the saving of young Ballingall's life, when he came home in an ague from some place; and I'm certain Lady Maclaughlan will leave you everything that is there, you was always such a favourite. Not but what I must always think that you had a hand in dear Sir Sampson's death. Indeed, I have no doubt of it. Yet, at the same time, I don't mean to blame you in the least; for I'm certain, if Sir Sampson had been spared, he would have been delighted, as we all are, at your marriage."
Colonel and Mrs. Lennox agreed in making choice of Lochmarlie for their future residence; and in a virtuous attachment they found as much happiness as earth's pilgrims ever possess, whose greatest felicity must spring from a higher source. The extensive influence which generally attends upon virtue joined to prosperity was used by them for its best purposes. It was not confined either to rich or poor, to caste or sect; but all shared in their benevolence whom that benevolence could benefit. And the poor, he sick, and the desolate, united in blessing what heaven had already blessed—this happy Marriage.
THE END. |
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