Caroline answered not, for her tears fell fast upon the hand she held; tears not of sorrow but of emotion, blessed in their sadness. She bowed her head before Mrs. Hamilton, and murmured—
“Bless me, my mother!”
“May the God of infinite love, the Father of unclouded mercies, who hath been so unchangeably merciful to his servants, look down from His resplendent throne and bless you, my beloved! May he sanctify and bless that event, which promises to our darkened eyes so much felicity! May He guide my child in His own paths, and hearken to her mother’s prayer!”
“We will not separate this night to pray each in solitude, my child; let us read, and address our heavenly Father together, as we were wont to do, when it was my task to raise your infant thoughts and simple prayers to Him who heard and answered. I cannot part from you till these agitated feelings are more composed, and prayer will best enable them to be so.”
Willingly, gladly Caroline lingered, and their private devotions, which ever attended their retiring to rest, were performed together. Their blessed influence was mutually felt. He whom they so fervently addressed looked down upon His good and faithful servants, and poured upon the mother’s soul and on that of her child the calm and tranquillizing dew of His blessing.
The morning dawned, and common-place as is the expression, yet we must confess the day was lovely; one of those soft, delicious September days so well known to all who are acquainted with the climate of Devonshire. Gaily the sun looked down from his field of stainless azure, and peeped through the windows of the elegant little room which the taste of her young bridesmaids had decorated as Caroline’s tiring-room for the day, and his bright rays played on the rich jewels scattered on the toilette, and decked them with renewed brilliance; and at times his light would fall full upon the countenance of the young bride, sometimes pensive, at others, radiant in beaming smiles, as she replied to the kind words of Lady Gertrude, or in answer to the playful conversation of her younger bridesmaids, who, full of life, and hope, and innocence, hovered like fairy spirits round their queen. The tears which had fallen from the eyes of Emmeline on her sister’s neck that morning were dried, yet still there were some lingering traces of sadness on her fair sweet face, which she struggled vainly to conceal, but which were regarded as the sorrow of an affectionate heart thus parting from the sister of its love.
And Lilla Grahame, too, was there, smiling with, real and heartfelt pleasure. She had observed the slight cloud on Emmeline’s brow, and with every affectionate art endeavoured to remove it.
The toilette of the bride was completed, save her jewels, which Ellen had entreated might be her office to arrange, and, smilingly, Lady Florence resigned her place by Caroline’s side.