The conversation was serious rather than merry, and the speeches earnest rather than witty.

Near the end of the breakfast, the bride’s health was proposed by the first groomsman in a complimentary speech, which was acknowledged in a few appropriate remarks by her nearest relative, the Baron Von Levison.  The bridegroom’s health was then proposed by the baron, and acknowledged by a deep and silent bow from the duke.

Then the health of the bridesmaids, the clergy, Lady Belgrade, and the Baron Von Levison were duly honored.

And then the young bride arose, courtesied to her guests, and attended by her bridesmaids, retired to change her wedding dress for a traveling suit.

“How deadly pale she looks!  Is my niece really happy in this marriage?” inquired the Baron Von Levison, in a low tone, of Lady Belgrade, as the guests left the table.

“She is very happy in this marriage, which she has set her heart on for years.  In a word, this young wife is madly in love with her husband.  But you must consider what an awful shock she had on her first appointed wedding-day, and how it must recur to her mind in this,” answered the dowager.

“Ah, to be sure! to be sure! poor child! poor child!” muttered the German head of the family.

Meanwhile the young Duchess of Hereward reached her apartments.

Her dresser, Margaret, was in attendance.  Her travelling suit of black bombazine, trimmed with black crape, was laid out.  With the assistance of her maid she slowly divested herself of her white vail and robes, and put on the black travelling dress.  A black sack and a black felt hat, both deeply trimmed with crape, and black gloves, completed her toilet.

When she was quite ready she kissed her two bridesmaids and said: 

“Leave me alone now for a few minutes, dear girls, and wait for me in the drawing-room.  I will join you very soon.”

The young ladies returned her kisses and retired.

Then Salome dismissed her maid, that Margaret should prepare to accompany her mistress.

Finally, as soon as she found herself alone, she sank on her knees to pray, that, if possible, this dark shadow might be permitted to pass away from her soul; that light and strength and grace might be given her to do all her duties and bear all her burdens as Christian wife and neighbor; that she and her husband might be blessed with true and eternal love for each other, for their neighbor, and above all for their Lord.

As she finished her prayer, and arose from her knees, her maid re-entered the room, dressed to attend her mistress on her journey.

The girl did not forget to honor the bride with her new title.

“I beg pardon, your grace,” she said, “but there is a strange-looking old woman down stairs who says she is a widow from Westminster Road, and that she must see your grace on a matter of life and death, before you start on your wedding tour.”