loved Harry.

CHAPTER L.

_FOR BETTER, FOR WORSE._

Towards the end of September, Harry Musgrave and Bessie Fairfax were
married. Lady Latimer protested against this conclusion by her absence,
but she permitted Dora Meadows to go to the church to look on. The
wedding differed but very little from other weddings. Harry Musgrave was
attended by his friend Forsyth, and Polly and Totty Carnegie were the
bridesmaids. Mr. Moxon married the young couple, and Mr. Carnegie gave
the bride away. Mr. Laurence Fairfax was present, and the occasion was
further embellished by little Christie and Janey in their recent wedding
garments, and by Miss Buff and Mr. Phipps, whose cheerful appearance in
company gave rise to some ingenious prophetic remarks. The village folks
pronounced the newly-wedded pair to be the handsomest they had seen
married at Beechhurst church for many a long year, and perhaps it was
lucky that Lady Latimer stayed away, for there was nothing in Mr. Harry
Musgrave's air or countenance to cheat her into commiseration.

"Elizabeth looked lovely--so beautifully happy," Dora Meadows reported.
"And Mr. Harry Musgrave went through the ceremony with composure: Miss
Buff said he was as cool as a cucumber. I should think he is a
faithless, unsentimental sort of person, Aunt Olympia."

"Indeed! because he was composed?" inquired my lady coldly.

Dora found it easier to express an opinion than to give her reasons for
it: all that Aunt Olympia could gather from her rather incoherent
attempts at explanation was that Mr. Harry Musgrave had possibly feigned
to be worse than he was until he had made sure of Elizabeth's tender
heart, for he appeared to be in very good case, both as to health and
spirits.

"He might have died for Elizabeth if she had not loved him; and whatever
he is or is not, he most assuredly would never voluntarily have given up
the chances of an honorable career for the sake of living in idleness
even with Elizabeth. You talk nonsense, Dora. There may be persons as
foolish and contemptible as you suppose, but Elizabeth has more wit than
to have set her affections on such a one." Poor Dora was silenced. My
lady was peremptory and decisive, as usual. When Dora had duly repented
of her silly suggestion, Aunt Olympia's natural curiosity to hear
everything prevailed over her momentary caprice of ill-humor, and she
was permitted to recite the wedding in all its details--even to Mrs.
Musgrave's silk gown