But then how long could she be in ignorance?
Little was coming home; he would certainly speak out.
Dr. Amboyne was more tormented with doubts than a man of inferior intellect would have been. His was an academic mind, accustomed to look at every side of a question; and, when he reached Woodbine Villa, he was almost distracted with doubt and perplexity. However, there was one person from whom the news must not be kept a moment.
He took an envelope out of his pocket-book, and sent the cabman to Mrs. Little with this line:
"Thank God, I have a letter from Henry Little by this day's post.
He is well. Wait an hour or two for me. I can not leave Woodbine Villa at present."
He sent this off by his cabman, and went into the breakfast-room in a state of mind easier to imagine than to describe.
The party were all seated, and his the only vacant place.
It was like a hundred other weddings at which he had been; and, seeing the bride and bridegroom seated together as usual, and the pretty bridemaids tittering, as usual, and the gentle dullness lighted up with here and there a feeble jest, as usual, he could hardly realize that horrible things lay beneath the surface of all this snowy bride-cake, and flowers, and white veils, and weak jocoseness.
He stared, bowed, and sunk into his place like a man in a dream.
Bridemaids became magnetically conscious that an incongruous element had entered; so they tittered. At what does sweet silly seventeen not titter?
Knives and forks clattered, champagne popped, and Dr. Amboyne was more perplexed and miserable than he had ever been. He had never encountered a more hopeless situation.
Presently Lally came and touched the bridegroom. He apologized, and left the room a moment.
Lally then told him to be on his guard, for the fat doctor knew something. He had come tearing up in a fly, and had been dreadfully put out when he found Miss Carden was gone to the church.
"Well, but he might merely wish to accompany her to the church: he is an old friend."
Lally shook his head and said there was much more in it than that; he could tell by the man's eye, and his uneasy way. "Master, dear, get out of this, for heaven's sake, as fast as ye can."
"You are right; go and order the carriage round, as soon as the horses can be put to."
Coventry then went hastily back to the bridal guests, and Lally ran to the neighboring inn which furnished the four post-horses.
Coventry had hardly settled down in his chair before he cast a keen but furtive glance at Dr. Amboyne's face.
Then he saw directly that the doctor's mind was working, and that he was secretly and profoundly agitated.
But, after all, he thought, what could the man know? And if he had known any thing, would he have kept it to himself?
Still he judged it prudent to propitiate Dr. Amboyne; so, when the time came for the usual folly of drinking healths, he leaned over to him, and, in the sweetest possible voice, asked him if he would do them both the honor to propose the bride's health.
At this unexpected call from Mr. Coventry, Dr. Amboyne stared in the bridegroom's face. He stared at him so that other people began to stare. Recovering himself a little, he rose mechanically, and surprised every body who knew him.
Instead of the easy gayety natural to himself and proper to the occasion, he delivered a few faltering words of affection for the bride; then suddenly stopped, and, after a pause, said, "But some younger man must foretell her the bright career she deserves. I am unfit. We don't know what an hour may bring forth." With this he sunk into his chair.
An uneasy grin, and then a gloom, fell on the bright company at these strange words, and all looked at one another uncomfortably.
But this situation was unexpectedly relieved. The young curate rose, and said, "I accept the honor Dr. Amboyne is generous enough to transfer to the younger gentlemen of the party--accept it with pride."
Starting from this exordium, he pronounced, with easy volubility, a charming panegyric on the bride, congratulated her friends, and then congratulated himself on being the instrument to unite her in holy wedlock with a gentleman worthy of her affection. Then, assuming for one moment the pastor, he pronounced a blessing on the pair, and sat down, casting glances all round out of a pair of singularly restless eyes.
The loud applause that followed left him in no doubt as to the favorable effect he had produced. Coventry, in particular, looked most expressively grateful.
The bridegroom's health followed, and Coventry returned thanks in a speech so neat and well delivered that Grace felt proud of his performance.
Then the carriage and four came round, and Coventry gave Grace an imploring glance on which she acted at once, being herself anxious to escape from so much publicity. She made her courtesies, and retired to put on her traveling-dress.
Then Dr. Amboyne cursed his own indecision, but still could not make up his mind, except to tell Raby, and make him the judge what course was best.
The gayety, never very boisterous, began to flag altogether; when suddenly a noise was heard outside, and one or two young people, who darted unceremoniously to the window, were rewarded by the sight of a man and a woman struggling and quarreling at the gate. The disturbance in question arose thus: Jael Dence, looking out of Grace's window, saw the postman coming, and ran to get Grace her letters (if any) before she went.
The postman, knowing her well, gave her the one letter there was.
Lally, returning from the inn, where he had stopped one unlucky minute to drain a glass, saw this, and ran after Jael and caught her just inside the gate.
"That is for me," said he, rudely.
"Nay, it's for thy betters, young man; 'tis for Miss Grace Carden."
"She is Mrs. Coventry now, so give it me."
"I'll take her orders first."
On this Lally grabbed at it and caught Jael's right hand, which closed directly on the letter like a vise.
"Are these your manners?" said she. "Give over now."
