Amabel was no sooner left to herself than she repented what she had done.  “I fear I have made a false step,” she mused; “but it is now too late to retreat, and I will hope for the best.  He cannot mean to deceive me.”

Her meditations were interrupted by the entrance of Prudence, who came towards her with a face full of glee.  “My lord has informed me of the good news,” she said.  “You are to be wedded to him to-day.  I have expected it all along, but it is somewhat sudden at last.  He is gone in search of the priest, and in the mean time has ordered me to attire you for the ceremony.  I have several rich dresses for your ladyship—­for so I must now call you—­to choose from.”

“The simplest will suit me best,” replied Amabel, “and do not call me ladyship till I have a right to that title.”

“That will be so soon that I am sure there can be no harm in using it now,” returned Prudence.  “But pray let me show you the dresses.”

Amabel suffered herself to be led into another room, where she saw several sumptuous female habiliments, and selecting the least showy of them, was soon arrayed in it by the officious attendant.  More than two hours elapsed before Rochester returned, when he entered Amabel’s chamber, accompanied by Sir George Etherege and Pillichody.  A feeling of misgiving crossed Amabel, as she beheld his companions.

“I have had some difficulty in finding a clergyman,” said the earl, “for the rector of Saint Saviour’s has fled from the plague.  His curate, however, will officiate for him, and is now in the church.”

Amabel fixed a searching look upon him.  “Why are these gentlemen here?” she asked.

“I have brought them with me,” rejoined Rochester, “because, as they were aware of the injury I once intended you, I wish them to be present at its reparation.”

“I am satisfied,” she replied.

Taking her hand, the earl then led her to a carriage, which conveyed them to Saint Saviour’s.  Just as they alighted, the dead-cart passed, and several bodies were brought towards it.  Eager to withdraw her attention from the spectacle, Rochester hurried her into the old and beautiful church.  In another moment they were joined by Etherege and Pillichody, and they proceeded to the altar, where the priest, a young man, was standing.  The ceremony was then performed, and the earl led his bride back to the carriage.  On their return they had to undergo another ill-omened interruption.  The dead-cart was stationed near the gateway, and some delay occurred before it could be moved forward.

Amabel, however, suffered no further misgiving to take possession of her.  Deeming herself wedded to the earl, she put no constraint on her affection for him, and her happiness, though short-lived, was deep and full.  A month passed away like a dream of delight.  Nothing occurred in the slightest degree to mar her felicity.  Rochester seemed only to live for her—­to think only of her.  At the end of this time, some indifference began to manifest itself in his deportment to her, and he evinced a disposition to return to the court and to its pleasures.