in which concealment was least of all possible. The church was
half full, and the path to the church-door was lined with gazers. Those
who were obliged to remain at home looked abroad from their doors; so
that all were gratified more or less. Every one on Mr Grey's premises
had a holiday--including Miss Young, though Mrs Rowland did not see why
her children should lose a day's instruction, because a distant cousin
of Mr Grey's was married. The marriage was made far too much a fuss of
for her taste; and she vowed that whenever she parted with her own
Matilda, there should be a much greater refinement in the mode. Every
one else appeared satisfied. The sun shone; the bells rang; and the
servants drank the health of the bride and bridegroom. Margaret
succeeded in swallowing her tears, and was, in her inmost soul, thankful
for Hester and herself. The letters to Mr Hope's sisters and brother,
left open for the signatures of Edward and Hester Hope, were closed and
despatched; and the news was communicated to two or three of the
Ibbotsons' nearest friends at Birmingham. Mr and Mrs Grey agreed, at
the end of the day, that a wedding was, to be sure, a most fatiguing
affair for quiet people like themselves; but that nothing could have
gone off better.

CHAPTER FIFTEEN.

MARIA AND MARGARET.

Mr Hope's professional duties would not permit him to be long absent,
even on such an occasion as his wedding journey. The young couple went
only to Oxford, and were to return in a week. Margaret thought that
this week never would be over. It was not only that she longed for rest
in a home once more, and was eager to repose upon her new privilege of
having a brother: she was also anxious about Hester,--anxious to be
convinced, by the observation of the eye and the hearing of the ear,
that her sister was enjoying that peace of spirit which reason seemed to
declare must be hers. It would be difficult to determine how much
Margaret's attachment to her sister was deepened and strengthened by the
incessant solicitude she had felt for her, ever since this attachment
had grown out of the companionship of their childhood. She could
scarcely remember the time when she had not been in a state of either
hope or fear for Hester;--hope that, in some new circumstances, she
would be happy at last; or dread lest these new circumstances should
fail, as all preceding influences had failed. If Hester had been less
candid and less generous