The four months elapsed. Ellen had remained all this time with her sister, and it was to Longbury that Mr. Hamilton returned when the time of his probation was over. If Ellen’s passion had increased in absence, Mr. Hamilton’s had not cooled, and never were two people more thoroughly attached, more romantically in love, and what, in the long run, conduces still more to lasting happiness, more entirely suited in disposition, than Ellen and her future husband. Their approaching marriage was now declared, and Lady Coverdale rallied Mr. Hamilton upon his thirst for information concerning the poor laws. Captain Wareham, who was an affectionate father, although an irritable man, rejoiced in the bright prospects of his daughter, and he was much gratified by the connection. Mr. Hamilton’s situation in life was such as to render his alliance eligible to any one, in however high a station; and to a man who had been reduced by poverty below his original position in the scale of society, it was peculiarly satisfactory. The marriage was to take place at Longbury, and after the delays necessary for settlements, &c. the day was fixed. Mr. Allenham performed the ceremony. Her father gave her away. There was no pomp; Ellen wished to have the whole quiet and unostentatious. Deeply as she was attached to Mr. Hamilton—confident as she was in his love for her—much as her reason, as well as her heart, approved of the step she was about to take,—a vague dread came over her as the day approached. Sounds as of other days were ringing in her ears. At times she almost fancied she heard the cathedral bells of her native place, the chime of the Minster clock striking the quarters. Who has not, without any concatenation of ideas which he can trace, when dropping asleep perhaps, or when plunged in a dreamy reverie, felt as it were the vibration of well-known sounds, and with effort roused himself to the recollection that he was far away from the home which was thus brought to his mind? On the eventful morning, the full deep swell of the cathedral bells, which rang out so sonorously on the morning of her first marriage, seemed to make themselves heard through the merry peal of the three or four tinkling bells which were all the boast of Longbury church. As Mr. Allenham pronounced the words, “Those whom God hath joined together, let no man put asunder,” that sound again rang in her ears—a mist came over her eyes—she fancied it was Mr. Cresford’s hand in which her’s was placed, and she fainted in her husband’s arms. CHAPTER VI. For contemplation he, and valour formed; For softness she, and sweet attractive grace; He for God only, she for God in him. MILTON. The last few words of the ceremony were quickly hurried over. Ellen was supported into the vestry, where she quickly recovered; and the circumstance of a bride’s fainting was not an event of such rare occurrence as to excite much surprise.