They returned to Elmsley Priory that the bride might change her dress; Fanny, of course, assisted her friend to take off the wedding-garments, the Brussells lace veil, the orange flowers, &c. which were to be replaced by a more quiet travelling costume, and accompanied her to the room in which breakfast was prepared, and the intimate friends and relations, who had been collected for the occasion, were assembled. Isabella flushed, agitated, happy, blushing, looked all one could wish a lovely bride to look. Fanny was calm, deadly calm. At length the travelling carriage came to the door; the packages were all arranged, the servants were on the box, and Lord and Lady Delaford took leave of the family party. The parting kiss went round—Lord Delaford, as one of the family, dutifully embraced his new uncle, his new aunt, his new relations. Fanny saw her turn would come, and she thought she could bear any coldness rather than this kindness; she felt her heart beat as he drew near the side of the room where she stood, she was almost inclined to slip away; but pride got the better; she resolved to do nothing that could look like emotion, or might possibly attract attention, and she stood her ground. When he took her hand and approached his lips to her cheek, she felt a cold shudder run through her, and she became, if possible, paler than before. He scarcely touched her cheek; she looked so coldly, purely immoveable, that he instinctively durst not give to her the kindly kiss which, in the joy and warmth of his heart, he had given to the elder branches of his new family. They hurried through the hall, and, in a moment, the sound of their carriage-wheels was heard rolling by the windows. All rushed to take a last look at them, and Fanny remained, as it were, petrified, fixed on the spot where she had parted from him. All the visions of her days of hope crowded on her memory; every sign of affection, every flattering attention he had ever shown her, appeared at one and the same moment present to her mind—all that had subsequently passed seemed like a dream; she felt for an instant as if she had been robbed of her betrothed; she had to rouse herself and to look round at the signs of the wedding feast, the cake, the ices, the fruits, and to assure herself of the sad reality. Fortunately, before the attention of the guests was withdrawn from the window, she had recovered her self-possession, had sent back all the feelings which she now considered as positively criminal, back to the depths of her heart, till she had leisure to drag them forth once more to the light, to examine into them, and to expel them resolutely from their fastnesses.