was empowered with a carte-blanche to make a provision accordingly.  At first he intimated his intention of calling on Mr. Benfield, but he finally settled down, to the no small mortification of the before-mentioned ladies, into writing a note to his kinsman, Lord Chatterton, whose residence was then in London, and who in reply, after expressing his sincere regret that an accident would prevent his having the pleasure of attending, stated the intention of his mother and two sisters to pay them an early visit of congratulation, as soon as his own health would allow of his travelling.  This answer arrived only the day preceding that fixed for the wedding, and at the very moment they were expecting his lordship in proper person.

“There,” cried Jane, in triumph, “I told you it was silly to send so far on so sudden an occasion; now, after all, what is to be done—­it will be so awkward when Clara’s friends call to see her—­Oh!  John, John, you are a Marplot.”

“Jenny, Jenny, you are a make-plot,” said John, coolly taking up his hat to leave the room.

“Which way, my son?” said the baronet, who met him at the door.

“To the deanery, sir, to try to get Captain Jarvis to act as bridesmaid—­I beg his pardon, groomsman, to-morrow—­Chatterton has been thrown from a horse and can’t come.’’

“John!”

“Jenny!”

“I am sure,” said Jane, indignation glowing in her pretty face, “that if Captain Jarvis is to be an attendant, Clara must excuse my acting.  I do not choose to be associated with Captain Jarvis.”

“John,” said his mother, with dignity, “your trifling is unseasonable; certainly Colonel Egerton is a more fitting person on every account, and I desire, under present circumstances, that you ask the colonel.”

“Your ladyship’s wishes are orders to me,” said John, gaily kissing his hand as he left the room.

The colonel was but too happy in having it in his power to be of service in any manner to a gentleman he respected as much as Mr. Francis Ives.  He accepted the duty, and was the only person present at the ceremony who did not stand within the bonds of consanguinity to the parties.  He was invited by the baronet to dine at the hall, as a matter of course, and notwithstanding the repeated injunctions of Mrs. Jarvis and her daughters, to return immediately with an account of the dress of the bride, and with other important items of a similar nature, the invitation was accepted.  On reaching the hall, Emily retired immediately to her own room, and at her reappearance when the dinner bell rang, the paleness of her cheeks and the redness of her eyes afforded sufficient proof that the translation of a companion from her own to another family was an event, however happy in itself, not unmingled with grief.  The day, however, passed off tolerably well for people who are expected to be premeditatedly happy, and when, in their hearts, they are really more disposed to weep than to laugh.  Jane and the colonel had most of the conversation to themselves during dinner:  even the joyous and thoughtless John wearing his gaiety in a less graceful manner than usual.  He was actually detected by his aunt in looking with moistened eyes at the vacant chair a servant had, from habit, placed at the table, in the spot where Clara had been accustomed to sit.