There _were_ those, however, who could have spoken of her mental disquietude at the approach of her cheerless nuptials--I mean her maid Annette and Miss Macspleuchan. To say that she _loathed_ the bare idea of her union with Titmouse--of his person, manners, and character--would not perhaps be exactly correct, since she had not the requisite strength of character; but she contemplated her future lord with mingled feelings of apprehension, dislike, and disgust. She generally fled for support to the comfortable notion of "_fate_," which had assigned her such a husband. Heaven had denied poor Lady Cecilia all power of contemplating the future; of anticipating consequences; of _reflecting_ upon the step she was about to take. Miss Macspleuchan, however, did so for her; but, being placed in a situation of great delicacy and difficulty, acted with cautious reserve whenever the subject was mentioned. Lady Cecilia had not vouchsafed to consult her before her Ladyship had finally committed herself to Titmouse; and, after that, interference was useless and unwarrantable. Lady Cecilia late one afternoon entered her dressing-room pale and dispirited, as had been latterly her wont; and, with a deep sigh, sank into her easy-chair. Annette, on her Ladyship's entrance, was leaning against the window frame, reading a book, which she immediately closed and laid down. "What are you reading there?" inquired Lady Cecilia, languidly. "Oh, nothing particular, my Lady!" replied Annette, coloring a little; "it was only the prayer-book. I was looking at the marriage-service, my Lady. I wanted to see what it was that your Ladyship has to say"---- "It's not very amusing, Annette. _I_ think it very dull and stupid--and you might have been better employed!" "La, my Lady--now _I_ should have thought it quite interesting, if _I_ had been in your La'ship's situation!" "Well, what is it that they expect me to repeat?" "Oh! I'll read it, my Lady--here it is," replied Annette, and read as follows:-- "_Then shall the priest say unto the woman_, 'N, wilt thou have this man to be thy wedded husband, to live together, after God's ordinance, in the holy state of matrimony? Wilt thou obey him, serve him, love, honor, and keep him, in sickness and in health, and, forsaking all other, keep thee only unto him, so long as ye both shall live?' "_The woman shall answer_, 'I will.'" "Well--it's only a form, you know, Annette--and I dare say no one ever gives it a thought," said Lady Cecilia, struggling to suppress a sigh. "Then," continued Annette, "your La'ship will have to say a good deal after the parson--but I beg your La'ship's pardon--it's (in your case) the bishop. Here it is: "'I, N, take thee, M, to be my wedded husband, to have and to hold, from this day forward, for better for worse, for richer for poorer, in sickness and in health, to love, cherish'"----