VII.
That piece of news with which Mr. Pennroyal had killed Sir Clarence was nomore than the truth. He was the betrothed husband of the beautifulheiress, Miss Battledown; and the three counties, on the whole, approvedthe match. It would consolidate two great contiguous estates, and add oneconsiderable fortune to another. There was a rather wide discrepancy inages, Pennroyal being about forty, while Miss Battledown was only in hernineteenth year; but that mattered little so that they agreed in otherrespects. Miss Battledown was generally believed to have very proper ideasas to her duties and responsibilities as an heiress. Since poor ArchibaldMalmaison lost his wits, she had received more than one offer which ayoung lady who was weak-minded enough to regard only personal attractionsmight have been tempted to accept; but she had needed no elder person tocounsel her to refuse them. In fact, she had at one time allowed it to beinferred that she deprecated the idea of being married to any one; andthis demonstrated a commendable maidenly reserve; but it was neither to beexpected nor desired that she should adhere to such a resolution in theface of good reasons for changing it. And Mr. Pennroyal was an excellentreason. He had passed through the unsteady period of his life; he hadlived down the vaguely discreditable reports which had once beencirculated at his expense; he had shown himself a thrifty landlord; andthe very fact of his being a widower invested him with a certainrespectability not always appertaining to unmarried gentlemen of his age.Finally, he belonged to a noble and distinguished family, and though therewas no likelihood of his acceding to the title, who was better qualifiedthan he to illustrate the substantial virtues of an English countrygentleman?
We are without detailed records of the early progress of this charming loveaffair. The inference is that it proceeded upon orthodox and unexceptionallines. Mr. Pennroyal would make known to the widow of the late Colonel theaspirations of his heart, and would receive from her permission to addresshimself to the lady of his choice. After the lapse of a few weeks ormonths (as the case might be) of mutually complimentary interviews andcorrespondence, the swain would entreat the maid to name the day which wasto make him the happiest of men. She would delay and hesitate for abecoming while; but at length, with a blush and a smile, would indicate adate too distant for the lover's impatience, yet as near as a respect forthe _convenances_ of wealthy virginity could permit. And now, allpreliminaries being settled, the preparations would go forward withliberality and despatch.
It had been at first arranged that the wedding should be solemnized at thehouse of the bride; but, for some reason or other, this plan wassubsequently changed, and Malmaison was fixed upon as the scene of theceremony. The great dining-hall, which had more than once been put tosimilar uses in years gone by, was made ready for the occasion. It was avast and stately apartment, sixty feet in length by forty in breadth, andits lofty ceiling was richly carved in oak; while around the walls werearranged suits of historic armor, and swords, pikes, and banners, therelics of ancestral valor. It was on the ground-floor of the most ancientpart of the house, immediately below that suite of rooms of which the eastchamber was one. It had not been used as a dining-hall since the old timeswhen retainers fed at the same table with their lords; but familycelebrations had been held there; and at the coming of age of the late SirClarence, in 1775, it had been the scene of a grand banquet to theneighboring nobility and gentry. The floor at the eastern end of the roomwas raised some eight inches above the level of the rest; and it was herethat the bride and bridegroom were to stand. A very reverend dean wassecured to pronounce the service; and there were to be eight bridesmaidsand a best man; the latter being none other than poor beclouded Archibaldhimself.
This choice created a good deal of surprise and comment. The fact appearsto have been that the post of "best man" had, in the first instance, beenoffered to young Sir Edward Malmaison, who, however, declined it. Hisreason for so doing was, in the first place, disapproval of the match; heholding the opinion that the widower of his aunt might as well haverefrained from a second nuptials, and that, at all events, he should haveselected any one rather than her who was to have been the wife ofArchibald. His second objection was a personal dislike to the HonorableRichard, and an indisposition to encourage his intimacy with the family.But Sir Edward could not so far oppose his mother's wishes as to forbidthe marriage being celebrated at Malmaison; and being obliged to concedeso much, he wisely deemed it most consistent with his dignity to adopt amanner as outwardly gracious as was compatible with self-respect.
Accordingly, when Pennroyal--whether maliciously, or from honest good-willtoward one who manifested an almost child-like attachment tohimself--chose Sir Edward's brother in his default, Sir Edward offered noopen opposition. If he remonstrated privately with Archibald, hisarguments were void of effect, and would have been, besides, counteractedby Lady Malmaison's influence. It is needless to say that Archibald wasimmensely proud of the compliment (as he considered it), and took care tocelebrate his distinction at all times and places, opportune orotherwise--seeming, indeed, to think and talk of little else. It is notprobable that he fully comprehended the significance of the matter, as hewas certainly far from perceiving its ironic aspect; nevertheless, hisdull brain received more stimulus from the prospect than from any otherthing that had befallen him, thereby furnishing sardonic humorists withthe criticism, that if the Honorable Richard Pennroyal would keep onburying his wives, and choosing Archibald as best man for the new-comer,the youth might in time become approximately intellectual.
The wedding-day was fixed for the 5th of March, 1821--a date which was longremembered in the neighborhood. Fortunately we have ample accounts ofeverything that occurred--the testimony of many eye-witnesses, which,through varying in some unimportant details (as is inevitable), agreenevertheless upon all essential points. I shall give the gist of thenarrative as concisely as a proper attention to its more important phaseswill allow.
Miss Kate Battledown, with her mother, came to Malmaison on the evening ofthe 4th, and spent the night, the ceremony being appointed at eleven thenext forenoon. The young lady spent an hour or so, before going to bed, inconversation with Archibald, who, in his pleasurable excitement over theforthcoming event, was much more lively and conversable than usual. Asthey walked side by side up and down the great hall, at one end of whichsome workmen were still engaged in arranging the decorations for themorrow, they must have made a handsome picture. Kate was at this time alithe and graceful figure, slightly above the medium height, andpossessing a great deal of "style;" in fact, young as she was, she hadbeen for some time regarded as a model of fashion and deportment by allthe aspiring young women within a radius of twenty miles. She was dressedon this evening in a gown of some thin, white material, the frilled hem ofwhich failed by at least six inches to reach the floor, thereby displayinga pair of arched feet and slender ankles, clothed in open-work silkstockings. The skirt of this gown began immediately beneath the arms, andevery contour of the wearer's form could be traced through itsclose-fitting and diaphanous folds. Miss Battledown's arms were bare, savefor the black silk netted mittens that she wore; her dark curling hair wasgathered pyramidally on the top of her head, and fastened with a blackribbon; a black velvet band encircled her white throat, and there was arow of black bows down the front of her dress. Her forehead was narrow andcompact, her large brown eyes were perhaps a trifle closer together thanthey should have been, her nose was delicate, her lips blunt-cornered andrather full than thin; the whole expression of her face spirited andcommanding. As for Archibald, he was a handsome vacancy, so to speak; afine physical man wasted for lack of a spiritual man to carry him aboutand use him. His regular, finely moulded face, with its healthy pallor andits black eyes and hair, always had a dim, pathetic look of havingforgotten something. His figure, symmetrical and full of strength, moveditself awkwardly and unmeaningly, as though ignorant of its owncapabilities, and rather encumbered than otherwise by their redundance.His smile, which drew his features into their handsomest attitude, wasnevertheless rather silly, a
nd seemed to last on after he himself hadforgotten what he was smiling for. His hands--strong, well-formed hands ofthe slender and long-fingered type--hung helplessly at the end of hisarms; or, if he attempted to use them, each finger appeared to have adifferent idea of what was to be done, and one and all fumbled drowsilyand shiftlessly at their task. The young man wore the high-collared coat,short waistcoat, and clinging pantaloons of the period; and his black hairhung down on his shoulders in natural luxuriance of curls. Poor Archibaldaccepted meekly whatever was given him to put on; but he would not let hishair be cut, or even anointed with the incomparable oil of Macassar.
"And so you are glad, Archie?" said Mistress Kate, continuing their talk.
"Oh, glad! yes, glad!" replied Archie, nodding his head slowly andsolemnly.
"You don't regret me, then, at all?"
"Oh, regret, no!" said Archie, shaking his head with the same sapience andgravity.
"Why do you always repeat what a person says, without seeming to know whatit is? There used to be a time, sir, when regret would have been far toomild a word for you. Have you forgotten all that? Have you forgotten LordOrville and Evelina?"
"Forgotten, yes; all forgotten!"
"Come, now, I wish you to remember. You understand that I am to be marriedto Richard Pennroyal tomorrow--to Richard Pennroyal!"
"Uncle Richard, dear Uncle Richard. I love Uncle Richard!"
"Do you love no one beside him? don't you love me?"
"Don't love you, oh, no!"
"Archie, have you forgotten how we were married in the back garden, and howyou used to say I was your little wife; and you wanted to fight a duelwith Richard because he had taken me on his knee and kissed me?"
"See how pretty!" exclaimed Archie, whose attention had been fixed duringthis speech upon two of the workmen who were unrolling between them apiece of crimson cloth appertaining to the hangings.
"What a creature!" muttered Kate to herself. To have her romantic souvenirsignored even by this simpleton vexed her a little. Perhaps, too, she hadanother reason for regretting her companion's witlessness. She couldremember when she had cared for him--or for something called him--morethan she cared now for the man she would wed to-morrow. Why was he not thesame now as then? His face, his hands, his figure--these were the same, orrather they were handsomer and more manlike than formerly. Why could notthe soul, or whatever may be that mysterious invisible motive-power in aman--why could it not have stuck to its fortress during these seven yearspast? Here were five feet eleven of well-sculptured living clay, that hadbeen growing and improving for more than one and twenty years; and for aninhabitant, nothing but a soft foolish child, destitute of memory,intelligence, and passion. Such reflections may have passed through themind of the young heiress; and then she may have thought, glancing at him,"If my Archibald were here, to-morrow might see another spectacle thanthat put down in the programme." She might have thought this; she did notand of course would not on any account have uttered such a sentimentaloud. But it would be unjust to her taste and sensibility to supposethat, apart from worldly and politic considerations, she should havereally preferred a sharp-featured, thin-haired, close-fisted gentleman offorty to a conceivable hero of half that age, dowered with every grace andbeauty, not to mention Miss Tremount's seventy thousand pounds. Is she tobe blamed if she sighed with a passing regret at that hero's mysteriousdisappearance? Yes, he had disappeared, more mysteriously and moreirrevocably than old Sir Charles seventy years ago. Where in the heavensor the earth or under the earth, indeed, was he? Did he still existanywhere? Might she dream of ever meeting him again--that hero?...! Bah!what nonsense!
"Pretty!" repeated Archie, who, in the subsidence of his other faculties,had retained an appreciation of color.
"Poor boy--poor thing!" said Kate; "you lost a great deal when you lostyour wits; between being a groomsman and a bridegroom there is a very widedifference. And you don't even care--perhaps that's your greatest loss ofall--ha, ha! Come, Archie, it's time for little fellows like you to beasleep."
"Kate--" began Archie; and paused.
"What?"
"Do you love anybody?"
She met his look of dull yet earnest inquiry with a contemptuous smile atfirst, but afterward her smile died away and she answered soberly:
"I did once."
"I did once, too!" rejoined Archie, with a sort of sluggish eagerness.
"You did--when?" demanded she, with the beginning of a heart-beat.
"I think I did--once--when I was asleep."
She laughed shortly and turned away. "Yes, sleep is the best thing for you,Archie; you had better sleep all the time now; it will be too late to wakeup to-morrow. Good-night, Archie."
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