The Cameron pride; or, purified by suffering : $b A novelHolmes, Mary Jane
General
The Cameron pride; or, purified by suffering : $b A novel
Holmes, Mary Jane
American fiction -- 19th century
He held out a small box containing a most exquisite set of pearls, such
as he fancied would be becoming to the soft, girlish beauty Wilford had
described. Something in his father’s manner touched Wilford closely,
making him resolve anew that if Kitty were not happy as Mrs. Cameron it
should not be his fault. His mother had said all she wished to say,
while his sisters had been gracious enough to send their love to the
bride, Bell hoping she would look as well in the poplin and little plaid
as she had done. Either was suitable for the wedding day, Mrs. Cameron
said, and she might take her choice, only Wilford must see that she did
not wear with the poplin the gloves and belt intended for the silk;
country people had so little taste, and she did want Katy to look well,
even if she were not there to see her. And with his brain a confused
medley of poplins and plaids, belts and gloves, pearls and Katy, Wilford
finally tore himself away, and at three o’clock that afternoon drove
through Silverton village, past the little church, which the Silverton
maidens were decorating with flowers, pausing a moment in their work to
look at him as he went by. Among them was Marian Hazelton, but she only
bent lower over her work, thus hiding the tear which dropped upon the
delicate buds she was fashioning into the words, “Joy to the Bride,”
intending the whole as the center of the wreath to be placed over the
altar where all could see it.
“The handsomest man I ever saw,” was the verdict of most of the girls as
they came back to their work, while Wilford drove on to the farm-house
where Katy had been so anxiously watching for him.
When he came in sight, however, and she knew he was actually there, she
ran away to hide her blushes, and the feeling of awe which had come
suddenly over her for the man who was to be her husband. But Helen bade
her go back, and so she went coyly in to Wilford, who met her with
loving caresses, and then put upon her finger the superb diamond which
he said he had thought to send as a pledge of their engagement, but had
finally concluded to wait and present himself. Katy had heard much of
diamonds, and seen some in Canandaigua; but the idea that she, plain
Katy Lennox, would ever wear them, had never entered her mind; and now,
as she looked at the brilliant gem sparkling upon her hand, she felt a
thrill of something more than joy at that good fortune which had brought
her to diamonds. Vanity, we suppose it was—such vanity as was very
natural in her case, and she thought she should never tire of looking at
the precious stone; but when Wilford showed her next the plain broad
band of gold, and tried it on her third finger, asking if she knew what
it meant, the true woman spoke within her, and she answered tearfully,
“Yes, I know, and I will try to prove worthy of what I shall be to you
when I wear that ring for good.”
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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