Domestic fiction; England -- Fiction; England -- Social life and customs -- 19th century -- Fiction; Married people -- Fiction
And "all went merry as a marriage bell." George Western and Cecilia
Holt were married in the cathedral by the Dean, who was thus supposed
to show his great anger at his brother-in-law's conduct. And this was
more strongly evinced by the presence of all the Hippesleys;--for all
were there to grace the ceremony except Maude, who was still absent
with her young squire, and who wrote a letter full of the warmest
affection and congratulations, which Cecilia received on that very
morning. Miss Altifiorla also came to the cathedral, with pink bows
in her bonnet, determined to show that though she were left alone in
her theory of life she did not resent the desertion. And Mrs. Green
was there, humble and sweet-tempered as ever, snubbing her husband
a little who assisted at the altar, and whispering a word into her
friend's ears to assure her that she had done the proper thing.
It is hardly necessary to say that on the morning of her wedding it
was in truth impossible for Cecilia to tell the story. It had now to
be left untold, with what hope there might be for smoothing it over
in some future stage of her married life. She had done the deed now,
and had married the man with the untold secret in her heart. The sin
surely could not be of a nature to weigh so deeply on her conscience!
She endeavoured to comfort herself with that idea again and again.
How many girls are married who have been engaged to, or at least in
love with, half-a-dozen suitors before the man has come who is at
last to be their lord! But Cecilia told herself, as she endeavoured
thus to find comfort, that her nature was not such as theirs. This
thing which she had done was a sin or not a sin, according as it
might be regarded by the person who did it. It was a sin to her, a
heavy, grievous sin, and one that weighed terribly on her conscience
as she repeated the words after the Dean at the altar that morning.
There was a moment in which she almost refused to repeat them,--in
which she almost brought herself to demand that she might retire for
a time with him who was not yet her husband, and give him another
chance. Her mind entertained an exaggerated feeling of it, a feeling
which she felt to be exaggerated but which she could not restrain.
In the meantime the service went on; the irrevocable word was spoken;
and when it was done she was led away into the cathedral vestry as
sad a bride as might be.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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