Home as Found by James Fenimore Cooper (easy novels to read .txt) 📖

often been justly remarked, that the fair of

this country are more winning in dress of a less conventional

character, than when in the elaborate and regulated attire of

ceremonies. As might have been expected, there was most of soul and

feeling in Eve's countenance, though Grace wore an air of charming

modesty and nature. Both were unaffected, simple and graceful, and we

may add that both trembled as Mr. Effingham took their hands.

 

"This is a pleasing and yet a painful hour," said that kind and

excellent man; "one in which I gain a son, and lose a daughter."

 

"And _I_, dearest uncle," exclaimed Grace, whose feelings

trembled on her eye-lids, like the dew ready to drop from the leaf,

"have _I_ no connexion with your feelings?"

 

"You are the daughter that I lose, my child, for Eve will still

remain with me. But Templemore has promised to be grateful, and I

will trust his word."

 

Mr. Effingham then embraced with fervour both the charming young

women, who stood apparelled for the most important event of their

lives, lovely in their youth, beauty, innocence, and modesty; and

taking an arm of each, he led them below. John Effingham, the two

bridegrooms, Captain Ducie, Mr. and Mrs. Bloomfield, Mrs. Hawker,

Captain Truck, Mademoiselle Viefville, Annette, and Ann Sidley, were

all assembled in the drawing-room, ready to receive them; and as soon

as shawls were thrown around Eve and Grace, in order to conceal the

wedding dresses, the whole party proceeded to the church.

 

The distance between the Wigwam and New St. Paul's was very trifling,

the solemn pines of the church-yard blending, from many points, with

the gayer trees in the grounds of the former; and as the buildings in

this part of the village were few, the whole of the bridal train

entered the tower, unobserved by the eyes of the curious. The

clergyman was waiting in the chancel, and as each of the young men

led the object of his choice immediately to the altar, the double

ceremony began without delay. At this instant Mr. Aristabulus Dodge

and Mrs. Abbot advanced from the rear of the gallery, and coolly took

their seats in its front. Neither belonged to this particular church,

though, having discovered that the marriages were to take place that

morning by means of Annette, they had no scruples on the score of

delicacy about thrusting themselves forward on the occasion; for, to

the latest moment, that publicity-principle which appeared to be

interwoven with their very natures, induced them to think that

nothing was so sacred as to be placed beyond the reach of curiosity.

They entered the church, because the church they held to be a public

place, precisely on the principle that others of their class conceive

if a gate be blown open by accident, it removes all the moral

defences against trespassers, as it removes the physical.

 

The solemn language of the prayers and vows proceeded none the less

for the presence of these unwelcome intruders; for, at that grave

moment, all other thoughts were hushed in those that more properly

belonged to the scene. When the clergyman made the usual appeal to

know if any man could give a reason why those who stood before him

should not be united in holy wedlock, Mrs. Abbott nudged Mr. Dodge,

and, in the fulness of her discontent, eagerly inquired in a whisper,

if it were not possible to raise some valid objection. Could she have

had her pious wish, the simple, unpretending, meek, and _church_-going

Eve, should never be married. But the editor was not a man to act

openly in any thing, his particular province lying in insinuations

and innuendoes. As a hint would not now be available, he determined

to postpone his revenge to a future day. We say revenge, for

Steadfast was of the class that consider any happiness, or

advantage, in which they are not ample participators, wrongs done to

themselves.

 

That is a wise regulation of the church, which makes the marriage

ceremony brief, for the intensity of the feelings it often creates

would frequently become too powerful to be suppressed, were it

unnecessarily prolonged. Mr. Effingham gave away both the brides, the

one in the quality of parent, the other in that of guardian, and

neither of the bridegrooms got the ring on the wrong finger. This is

all we have to of the immediate scene at the altar. As soon as the

benediction was pronounced, and the brides were released from the

first embraces of their husbands, Mr. Effingham, without even kissing

Eve, threw the shawls over their shoulders, and, taking an arm of

each, he led them rapidly from the church, for he felt reluctant to

suffer the holy feelings that were uppermost in his heart to be the

spectacle of rude and obtrusive observers. At the door, he

relinquished Eve to Paul, and Grace to Sir George, with a silent

pressure of the hand of each, and signed for them to proceed towards

the Wigwam. He was obeyed, and in less than half an hour from the

time they had left the drawing-room, the whole party was again

assembled in it.

 

What a change had been produced in the situation of so many, in that

brief interval!

 

"Father!" Eve whispered, while Mr. Effingham folded her to his heart,

the unbidden tears falling from both their eyes--"I am still thine!"

 

"It would break my heart to think otherwise, darling. No, no--I have

not lost a daughter, but have gained a son."

 

"And what place am I to occupy in this scene of fondness?" inquired

John Effingham, who had considerately paid his compliments to Grace

first, that she might not feel forgotten at such a moment, and who

had so managed that, she was now receiving the congratulations of the

rest of the party; "am I to lose both son and daughter?"

 

Eve, smiling sweetly through her tears, raised herself from her own

father's arms, and was received in those of her husband's parent.

After he had fondly kissed her forehead several times, without

withdrawing from his bosom, she parted the rich hair on his forehead,

passing her hand down his face, like an infant, and said softly--

 

"Cousin Jack!"

 

"I believe this must be my rank and estimation still Paul shall make

no difference in our feeling; we will love each other as we have ever

done."

 

"Paul can be nothing new between you and me. You have always been a

second father in my eyes, and in my heart, too, dear--dear cousin

Jack."

 

John Effingham pressed the beautiful, ardent, blushing girl to his

bosom again; and as he did so, both felt, notwithstanding their

language, that a new and dearer tie than ever bound them together.

Eve now received the compliments of the rest of the party, when the

two brides retired to change the dresses in which they had appeared

at the altar, for their more ordinary attire.

 

In her own dressing-room, Eve found Ann Sidley, waiting with

impatience to pour out her feelings, the honest and affectionate

creature being much too sensitive to open the floodgates of her

emotions in the presence of third parties.

 

"Ma'am--Miss Eve--Mrs. Effingham!" she exclaimed as soon as her young

mistress entered, afraid of saying too much, now that her nursling

had become a married woman.

 

"My kind and good Nanny!" said Eve, taking her old nurse in her arms,

their tears mingling in silence for near a minute. "You have seen

your child enter on the last of her great earthly engagements, Nanny,

and I know you pray that they may prove happy."

 

"I do--I do--I do--ma'am--madam--Miss Eve--what am I to call you in

future, ma'am?"

 

"Call me Miss Eve, as you have done since my childhood, dearest

Nanny."

 

Nanny received this permission with delight, and twenty times that

morning she availed herself of the permission; and she continued to

use the term until, two years later, she danced a miniature Eve on

her knee, as she had done its mother before her, when matronly rank

began silently to assert its rights, and our present bride became

Mrs. Effingham.

 

"I shall not quit you, ma'am, now that you are married?" Ann Sidley

timidly asked; for, although she could scarcely think such an event

within the bounds of probability, and Eve had already more than once

assured her of the contrary with her own tongue, still did she love

to have assurance made doubly sure. "I hope nothing will ever happen

to make me quit you, ma'am?"

 

"Nothing of that sort, with my consent, ever shall happen, my

excellent Nanny. And now that Annette is about to get married, I

shall have more than the usual necessity for your services."

 

"And Mamerzelle, ma'am?" inquired Nanny, with sparkling eyes; "I

suppose she, too, will return to her own country, now you know every

thing, and have no farther occasion for her?"

 

"Mademoiselle Viefville will return to France in the autumn, but it

will be with us all; for my dear father, cousin Jack, my husband--"

Eve blushed as she pronounced the novel word--"and myself, not

forgetting you my old nurse, will all sail for England, with Sir

George and Lady Templemore, on our way to Italy, the first week in

October."

 

"I care not, ma'am, so that I go with you. I would rather we did not

live in a country where I cannot understand all that the people say

to you, but wherever you are will be my earthly paradise."

 

Eve kissed the true-hearted woman, and, Annette entering, she changed

her dress.

 

The two brides met at the head of the great stairs, on their way back

to the drawing-room. Eve was a little in advance, but, with a half-

concealed smile, she gave way to Grace, curtsying gravely, and

saying--

 

"It does not become _me_ to precede Lady Templemore--I, who am

only Mrs. Paul Effingham."

 

"Nay, dear Eve, I am not so weak as you imagine. Do you not think I

should have married him had he not been a baronet?"

 

"Templemore, my dear coz, is a man any woman might love, and I

believe, as firmly as I hope it sincerely, that he will make you

happy."

 

"And yet there is one woman who would not love him, Eve!"

 

Eve looked steadily at her cousin for a moment, was startled, and

then she felt gratified that Sir George had been so honest, for the

frankness and manliness of his avowal was a pledge of the good faith

and sincerity of his character. She took her cousin affectionately by

the hand, and said--

 

"Grace, this confidence is the highest compliment you can pay me, and

it merits a return. That Sir George Templemore may have had a passing

inclination for one who so little deserved it, is possibly true--but

my affections were another's before I knew him."

 

"You never would have married Templemore, Eve; he says himself, now,

that you are quite too continental, as he calls it, to like an

Englishman."

 

"Then I shall take the first good occasion to undeceive him; for I do

_like_ an Englishman, and he is the identical man."

 

As few women are jealous on their wedding-day, Grace took this in

good part, and they descended the stairs together, side by side,

reflecting each other's happiness, in their timid but conscious

smiles. In the great hall, they were met by the bridegrooms, and each

taking the arm of him who had now become of so vast importance to

her, they paced the room to and fro, until summoned to the _dejeuner

a la fourchette_, which had been prepared under the especial

superintendence of Mademoiselle Viefville, after the manner

of her country.

 

Wedding-days, like all formally prepared festivals, are apt to go off

a little heavily. Such, however, was not the case with this, for

every appearance of premeditation and preparation vanished with this

meal. It is true the family did not quit the grounds, but, with this

exception, ease and tranquil happiness reigned throughout. Captain

Truck was alone disposed to be sentimental, and, more than once, as

he looked about him, he expressed his doubts whether he had pursued

the right course to attain happiness,

 

"I find myself in a solitary category," he said, at the dinner-

table, in the evening. "Mrs. Hawker, and both the Messrs.

Effinghams, _have been_ married; every body else _is_ married, and I

believe I must take refuge in saying that I _will be_ married, if I

can now persuade any one to have me. Even Mr. Powis, my right-hand

man, in all that African affair, has deserted me, and left me like a

single dead pine in one of your clearings, or a jewel-block dangling

at a yard-arm, without a sheave. Mrs. Bride--" the captain styled

Eve thus, throughout the day, to the utter neglect of the claims of

Lady Templemore--"Mrs. Bride, we will consider my forlorn condition

more philosophically, when I shall have the honour to take you, and

so many of this blessed party, back again to Europe, where I found

you. Under your advice I think I might even yet venture."

 

"And I am overlooked entirely," cried Mr. Howel,