After all that lavender and sal-volatile could do for her, she was
such a spectacle, that when her father came to fetch her he was
shocked, and said, tenderly, 'Lucy, my child, this must not be. Say
one word, and all shall be over, and you shall never hear a word of
reproach.'
But Lucy only cast a frightened glance around, and rising up with the
accents of perfect sincerity, said, 'No, papa; I am quite ready; I am
quite happy. I was only silly.'
Her mind was evidently made up, and it was past Albinia's divination
whether her agitation were composed of fear of the future and remorse
for the past, or whether it were mere love of home and hurry of
spirits, exaggerated by belief that a bride ought to weep. Probably
it was a compound of all, and the whole of her reply perfect truth,
especially the final clause.
So they married her, poor child, very much as if they had been
attending her to the block. Sophy's view of the case had infected
them all beyond being dispelled by the stately complacency of the
bridegroom, or the radiant joy and affection of his uncle.
They put her into a carriage, watched her away, and turned back to
the task which she had left them, dreading the effects of her
absence. She was missed, but less than they feared; the faculties
had become too feeble for such strong emotion as had followed
Gilbert's departure; and the void was chiefly perceptible by the
plaintive and exacting clinging to Albinia, who had less and less
time to herself and her children, and was somewhat uneasy as to the
consequences as regarded Maurice.
Pages:
567
568
569
570
571
572
573
574
575
576
577
578
579
580
581
582
583
584
585
586
587
588
589
590
591