e two gentlemen coming along the lime-tree walk! it
must be the bridegroom and his friend." Out of much sympathy, and some
curiosity, Ellinor bent forward, and saw, just emerging from the shadow
of the trees on to the full afternoon sunlit pavement, Mr. Corbet and
another gentleman; the former changed, worn, aged, though with still the
same fine intellectual face, leaning on the arm of the younger taller
man, and talking eagerly. The other gentleman was doubtless the
bridegroom, Ellinor said to herself; and yet her prophetic heart did not
believe her words. Even before the bright beauty at the deanery looked
out of the great oriel window of the drawing-room, and blushed, and
smiled, and kissed her hand--a gesture replied to by Mr. Corbet with much
_empressement_, while the other man only took off his hat, almost as if
he saw her there for the first time--Ellinor's greedy eyes watched him
till he was hidden from sight in the deanery, unheeding Miss Monro's
eager incoherent sentences, in turn entreating, apologising, comforting,
and upbraiding. Then she slowly turned her painful eyes upon Miss
Monro's face, and moved her lips without a sound being heard, and fainted
dead away. In all her life she had never done so before, and when she
came round she was not like herself; in all probability the persistence
and wilfulness she, who was usually so meek and docile, showed during the
next twenty-four hours, was the consequence of fever. She resolved to be
present at the wedding; numbers were going; she would be unseen,
unnoticed in the crowd; but whatever befell, go she would, and neither
the tears nor the prayers of Miss Monro could keep her back. She gave no
reason for this determination; indeed, in all probability she had none to
give; so there was no arguing the point. She was inflexible to entreaty,
and no one had any authority over her, except, perhaps, distant Mr. Ness.
Miss Monro had all sorts of forebodings as to the possible scenes that
might come to pass. But all went on as quietly as though the fullest
sympathy pervaded every individual of the great numbers assembled. No
one guessed that the muffled, veiled figure, sitting in the shadow behind
one of the great pillars, was that of one who had once hoped to stand at
the altar with the same bridegroom, who now cast tender looks at the
beautiful bride; her veil white and fairy-like, Ellinor's black and
shrouding as that of any nun.
Already Mr. Corbet's name w
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