Chapter XXIV: Wedding Bells

WHEN Hope found Mrs. Dane's welcoming arms round her, she clung to her almost hysterically. The relief and rest, after her anxious life lately, were too much for her.

"Oh," she said, with a sob in her throat, "I have longed for you so! I really believe I have longed as much for you as for Lancelot; only don't tell him so. I feel as if I am twenty years younger at this moment than I was this time yesterday. Girls talk of independence and freedom! I am longing to be dependent on some one, to let myself go without any more thought or contrivance, knowing that I have people at the back of me. Am I getting incoherent? I feel quite unnerved."

"You look strained to pieces," said Mrs. Dane, placing her hand in a motherly fashion under Hope's chin, and turning her face upwards with tender solicitude. "Your life has been too hard, too rough, dear; what could your brother have been thinking about, to let you get so thin and worn!"

"Brian? Oh, it is ages since I have been with him. I am not ill; I am very strong, you know, but I missed the boys when they left me. I think I have been quite homesick for them."

"I shall not let you leave me till you are married," said Mrs. Dane, in her quiet decisive manner. "There is no one in England to dispute my claim, is there?"

"No one," said Hope, with a smile and a sigh.

Mrs. Dane seemed as if she could not do enough for Hope that evening. She took her to a comfortable bedroom next to her own, which she had had prepared for her. And there, in a big easy chair by a blazing fire, she made her sit and talk to her.

"We will have our tea brought to us. Lancelot has had to go to the station about some of our luggage. He can have his turn with you after dinner; this is my opportunity. I want to hear everything, Hope, dearest. Treat me like a mother, tell me everything about yourself. How little I thought when I left you that you would want me so soon! Tell me about that terrible flood."

So, leaning back amongst her cushions, with a laughing protest at being considered an invalid, Hope began her story. She told Mrs. Dane everything; her love and sympathy seemed to demand full confidence.

She described in detail the terrible time when the cottage was inundated, the last hours of her father's life, and the consequent breaking up of the home. She told of Kitty's engagement to Brian—for Hope would always consider it such—and then of her life with the old Squire, and her subsequent visit to London. The story of Miss Rill's discovery and of her marriage interested Mrs. Dane greatly. But when Hope came to speak of her life in lodgings since that event, there was more hesitation in her tone, Mrs. Dane's quick intuition solved the cause.

"Hope, dearest, confide in me. There need be no secrets. You told me long ago that you were entirely dependent on your father. You have said that your brother handed you over a small sum, and I am positively certain that Miss Rill's expenses swallowed up the greater part of it. Have you been starving yourself? You look like it. Have you found it difficult to make both ends meet? No, don't answer me. I see that you have."

And then Hope put her face in her hands and sobbed aloud.

"My pride has long ago departed, Mrs. Dane. It has been a bitter thought that your son is taking a penniless girl for his wife. I have struggled and struggled to keep a little in hand. I have tried hard to earn something, but here I am, as you see, absolutely homeless and penniless. What would you feel like if you were in my shoes? I suppose God sees it to be good for me, otherwise He would have ordered it differently. I can only feel grateful that it is myself that Lancelot wants, for he knows I will bring him nothing else!"

Mrs. Dane's thoughts went back to that first evening when she saw Hope enter Kayminster Cathedral. She remembered the dainty, richly-dressed girl, who looked as if wealth and luxury had always been her portion, and she glanced at that same girl now. What she saw brought a smile to her lips and eyes. She laid her hand tenderly on Hope's soft brown head.

"We must not have tears, Hope, dearest. I know which daughter-in-law I prefer. I have seen you in prosperity, and I see you now, and the cares and privation and loss of all that makes life dear to most girls, has only refined and strengthened and beautified your soul. I am not flattering you. Thank God that He has been your Teacher, and thank Him for helping you to learn your lessons so well."

Hope was ashamed of her loss of self-control.

"I am unnerved to-day," she said looking up with a smile. "It is good of you to speak so. I wish I deserved such praise. I have been selfishly taking up all this time in talking of my own affairs. Now tell me about yourself and Lancelot."

They sat by the fire, talking till nearly dinner-time. Lancelot returned in time for it, and it was served in their private sitting-room. And then afterwards Mrs. Dane retired to her room, giving the young couple an opportunity of being alone together.

They had a great deal to tell each other, though perhaps Lancelot did most of the talking. Hope was too happy to say much, and she was tired, feeling the strain of the past few weeks more, now that it was over, than she had done at the time. She sat still in her easy chair, and when Lancelot was not by her side, he was standing on the rug, looking down upon her. She caught one of his intent glances, and laughed up at him.

"I am nothing much to look at; I don't believe you have listened to my last remark."

"If you knew how I had hungered for this moment, you would understand what a feast you are to my eyes," he replied gravely. Then he sat down by her side, and took her hand in his. "I am brimful of plans," he said, "and want your assistance. First of all, when are we going to be married? I should like it to be to-morrow. You do not want a show ceremony, Hope?"

"No," she said, a little startled by his eager haste. "But you must give me breathing space."

"I want you to come straight to the North with me. I think you will like Brunsworthy Hall. I am due there at once. Why should we not go down as man and wife?"

Hope remained silent for a moment, then she looked up sweetly.

"Let me talk to your mother about it. I will not keep you waiting long. Tell me about your country home."

So Lancelot told her all he knew, and described the old stone house near the Yorkshire moors, and the tenants upon his property, and the neighbours round, and then he and Hope began to make plans for improving the moral state of the poor.

"We are five miles from church, and the Vicar is old and feeble, there is no one to visit in the village, and the state of some of the families there is not much better than that of the heathen. The properties are large, and our friends will be few and far between, but I am certain that you will not feel lonely, for you will have many to help and comfort."

"You amongst them," said Hope, with a flush on her cheek and light in her eye. "Oh, Lancelot, I am a very happy woman to-night!"

The time went very quickly. Mrs. Dane came into the room at last, to advise Hope going to bed, and as she laid her head on her pillow that night, she felt like a battered storm-tossed craft landed safely in a quiet haven.

The next few days seemed like a dream to her. There was a great deal of shopping to be done. Hope went to her lodgings to pack up all her belongings and to say goodbye to her landlady.

Mrs. Edgar was sincerely sorry to lose her.

"But marriage be in the air, and Mrs. Green next door she says to me,—

"'Why, Mrs. Edgar,' she says; 'how you do marry hoff your ladies. 'Twill advertise your house surely!'

"Mrs. Green she were uncommon struck with Miss Rill a-coming back to me to be married, and now 'tis you, miss; but the minute I saw you I says to myself, 'My house won't be long for her.' You had it in your own air, miss, that though you were alone and not—excuse me—over-smartly dressed, yet there was that about you told you were of the quality, and I knew from the look of you that you were too good to be one of these poor single women that crowds the hoffices in the city. I'm sure I've never had such a lodger for cheerin' of me hup. 'Tis generally the ways of lodgers to think their landladies just a servant; but to credit them with hearts and feelin's like themselves—no, never!"

It was a fortnight afterwards that Hope went quietly to church one morning with Mrs. Dane in a private brougham, and was married. Paul Dane was present, but no one else—Jim Horrocks had fortunately gone out of town; Hope had seen him once since she had been at Claridge's, and had thanked him gratefully for all his services.

"I mean to be one of your friends still," he said to her, "when I have recovered from the shock of your approaching marriage, for I think it great nonsense when a husband tries to cut his wife's old acquaintances."

"Lancelot will never do that," said Hope, with assurance.

"I'm thankful for your sake that you have some one to look after you at last," said Jim. "And don't you stay up in that cold 'North countree' too long! Make your husband bring you up to town, so that your old friends can see something of you."

Hope smiled; with very few exceptions she felt as if she never cared to see any of her London friends again. They had dropped her when she had left her aunt's. She did not wish to renew their acquaintance now. But she had the pleasure of a flying visit from Hester Chesney before her wedding-day.

Hester was passing through town, and had accidentally heard of Hope's whereabouts. She kissed her most affectionately.

"I thought I had lost you altogether," she said. "We have been away so much, and since Minnie's marriage, I am a great deal tied to my mother. But I managed to get over and see Mrs. Manners the other day. How you have figured in her little romance! I think it is quite delightful to see the quaint old couple in their cottage. And now your turn is coming. I don't know that I don't envy you."

"Oh, Hester!"

Something in her friend's tone touched Hope. Hester looked very worn and tired in spirit. She laughed a little constrainedly.

"Your eyes are big with sympathy at once! It is only that my life is going through a process of fresh adjustment. I told you, when Minnie left us, that I should have to go the social rounds with my mother. My bees and flowers are consequently suffering. You know your Bible. I feel I have been like Moses, in the back side of the desert, and how I have enjoyed it! Now—"

"Now," interrupted Hope eagerly, "you are going to help your brethren in the land of bondage, to rid them of their burdens. Oh, you can, Hester! Much better than I ever could! Let us carry on the parable. Aren't there many who feel the burden of a society life, of keeping up appearances when they have not the means, of laughing when their hearts are aching, and entertaining and making life pleasant for others, when they themselves are full of bitterness and disappointment? You know their ways. You can help them."

"How?" cried Hester, a little fiercely. "You are always so visionary, Hope! I am not such a success myself that they would be attracted by my influence! I see the hollowness of most of it, but I don't see any cure."

"You will if you go to the right Physician, and read His Book," said Hope softly.

Hester turned abruptly away.

Hope tactfully spoke of other things, but when they wished each other goodbye, Hester said, in her abrupt way:

"I always told you that you had found the right path in life, and if you have found it, there is no earthly reason why I should not do so, too. I will follow your clue, and will tell you the result—when I arrive at it."

Hope's wedding-day was a bright sunny one in the middle of May. The service seemed like a dream to her; she returned to the hotel, where they had a substantial luncheon, and then they left by a midday train for Yorkshire.

Mrs. Dane came to the station to see them off, accompanied by Paul.

"It will not be goodbye for long," Hope said to her; "for you are coming to stay with us very soon."

And Mrs. Dane promised that she would do so.

"I have not lost a son," she said; "only gained a daughter."

When they were off, Lancelot turned to Hope with a sigh of infinite relief.

They were comfortably established in a first-class carriage.

"We shall be alone at last," he said. "I don't think a wedding is an enjoyable performance, do you?"

Hope laughed a little shyly.

"It is the feeling that it is such a tremendous thing that paralyses one, I believe. I can't make myself clear, but I am only now realising that we are man and wife."

Lancelot responded as only a lover can. He showered every attention on her, and as they swiftly passed through the lovely English country, noting the lambs in the meadows, the hedges of white hawthorn, and the snowy fruit-blossoms in the orchards, she exclaimed:

"I would like this journey to last for ever, just you and I, with no outsiders to distract us. The end of it will bring business and thought to you. Now we are selfishly engrossed with ourselves. Our circle is very small, but—"

"It is intense," put in Lancelot, "like the focus of a magnifying glass in the sun, the smaller the circle, the more force and power there are existing."

Hope took time to think this out.

"It doesn't sound right," she said, laughing; "for the smallest circle one can have is round oneself, and that is stagnation."

"Yes, one absolutely comes to a standstill in that case, but we revolve round each other, do we not? Oh, Hope, little woman, we will not talk wisely to-day! I feel I have no words. I only want to have you close to me, and remember that you are mine. I am thanking God for such a gift!"

Hope rested her head against his shoulder in supreme content.

"I am much afraid," she said, after a pause, "that I am a very weak-minded old-fashioned woman. My greatest comfort and solace now is thinking that I shall never have to think for myself again. I shall lean hard on you, dearest, and I feel that you will never fail me. The strength of a man mentally and physically is such a comfort and rest to me. I never can understand why women fight for supremacy!"

"Equality, is it not?" said Lancelot, smiling.

"Perhaps so. But why should they want to take up the burden and cares of responsibility? It is what brings grey hair and wrinkles to many a single woman before her time!"

"You are a little philosopher. I am ready to ease you of all that I can in the future."

"No, you must not make me selfish. I shall wish to share with you where I can."

Then, after a few minutes' silence, she said:

"I feel half afraid of happiness now, Lancelot—I mean such happiness as ours at present. For a long time I have felt that I have needed discipline. You see, I had such an easy self-indulgent life so long, and then, when I really began to serve God, it seemed as if I needed so much teaching that He changed all my circumstances, and He has been leading me step by step ever since, teaching me to trust when I can't see. I wonder if I have learnt my lesson properly, and whether He thinks a little green pasture and rest good for me now?"

Lancelot looked down upon Hope's sweet face with great tenderness.

"It will be green pastures for me, too. Don't let us question our happiness, but take it with thankful hearts, my darling."

The express sped on; day was deepening into dusk. The young couple relapsed into silence. Both were in rapt and dreamy enjoyment of the present moment, when suddenly, without any warning, there was a shriek of the whistle, a momentary slacking of the terrific pace at which they were going, a grinding crash, an awful shock—and then oblivion, dark and total!