My thoughts were not exactly in the vein to enjoy the embarrassment of Moses, and I silenced him by promising all he asked.  We were not elegant enough to meet at the church, but I proceeded at once to the little rectory, where I found the good divine and my lovely bride had just completed their arrangements.  And lovely, indeed, was Lucy, in her simple but beautiful bridal attire!  She was unattended, had none of those gay appliances about her that her condition might have rendered proper, and which her fortune would so easily have commanded.  Yet it was impossible to be in her presence without feeling the influence of her virgin mien and simple elegance.  Her dress was a spotless but exquisitely fine India muslin, well made and accurately fitting; and her dark glossy hair was embellished only by one comb ornamented with pearls, and wearing the usual veil.  As for her feet and hands, they were more like those of a fairy than of one human; while her countenance was filled with all the heartfelt tenderness of her honest nature.  Around her ivory throat, and over her polished shoulders, hung my own necklace of pearls, strung as they had been on board the Crisis, giving her bust an air of affluent decoration, while it told a long story of distant adventure and of well-requited affection.

We had no bride’s-maids, (Marble excepted), no groom’s-men, no other attendants than those of our respective households.  No person had been asked to be present, for we felt that our best friends were with us, when we had these dependants around us.  At one time, I had thought of paying Drewett the compliment of desiring him to be a groom’s-man; but Lucy set the project at rest, by quaintly asking me how I should like to have been his attendant, with the same bride.  As for Rupert, I never inquired how he satisfied the scruples of his father, though the old gentleman made many apologies to me for his absence.  I was heartily rejoiced, indeed, he did not appear; and, I think, Lucy was so also.

The moment I appeared in the little drawing-room of the rectory, which Lucy’s money and taste had converted into a very pretty but simple room, my “bright and beauteous bride” arose, and extended to me her long-loved hand.  The act itself, natural and usual as it was, was performed in a way to denote the frankness and tenderness of her character.  Her colour went and came a little, but she said nothing.  Without resuming her seat, she quietly placed an arm in mine, and turned to her father, as much as to say we were ready.  Mr. Hardinge led the way to the church, which was but a step from the rectory, and, in a minute or two, all stood ranged before the altar, with the divine in the chancel.  The ceremony commenced immediately, and in less than five minutes I folded Lucy in my arms, as my wife.  We had gone into the vestry-room for this part of the affair, and there it was that we received the congratulations of those humble, dark-coloured beings, who then formed so material a portion of nearly every American family of any means.