Therefore Mr. Oldstone proposed that they should all meet once
again that evening round the steaming punch-bowl; Helen and her parents
being also of the company. "Just to drink to the health of the bride elect," explained Mr. Oldstone
with an appealing look towards Dr. Bleedem. And it was so. That the bride's health was drunk that evening with a "Hip, hip,
hurrah!" goes without saying. How Mr. McGuilp started on the morrow for
town on business connected with his approaching marriage; his return;
his sojourn at the "Headless Lady" until the grand event came off; how
he occupied his spare time partly in painting a portrait of his friend
Mr. Oldstone, which was followed in due time by portraits of his future
father and mother-in-law, and in imparting instruction to his fair
bride; likewise, how, when unavoidably absent on business, Mr. Oldstone
would enact the rôle of instructor to the fair bride of his protégé, so
that no time should be lost in fitting her for her exalted station; how
Helen improved daily in intelligence and knowledge under such careful
tuition, are matters of history. All unpleasant experiences of the past had been forgotten in the joy
attending the great approaching event. Coffins had been made for the bodies of the two malefactors. The corpse
of Lord Scampford had been placed in his lordship's carriage and driven
by his coachman (whose shoulder blade was now quite well), and
accompanied by his footman to London, where it was consigned to the
family vault of the Scampfords, while that of his partner in crime
filled a nameless grave in a corner of the old churchyard at
Littleboro'. Some procrastination and unexpected delays _would_ occur, however, in
spite of all our hero could do to hurry on the event, for we know that
"the course of true love never _did_ run smooth," but at length the
happy day arrived. How merrily pealed the bells from the ruined tower
of the picturesque old parish church of Littleboro' on that sunny morn! How gay the peasantry looked in their holiday attire! Proud, indeed,
were our host and hostess as a splendid equipage with coachman and
footman, each adorned with a huge nosegay, drove up to the door of the
"Headless Lady" to convey the fair bride, who was attired in the most
approved fashion of the period, and accompanied by her father and
mother, both clad in gala, to the church. How the yokels did gape as they recognised in the magnificently attired
bride poor Nell Hearty, maid of the inn at the cross roads, whom they
had seen full oft to feed the pigs, milk the cows, scrub the steps, wash
and hang out the clothes, and who had served them with many a pint of
her father's home brewed ale. It was a thing not well understood--had no
right to be, doubtless they thought. The little church was crammed. Needless to say that every member of the Wonder Club was present, and,
lo, here comes the vicar of Littleboro', that aged and somewhat infirm
cleric of benevolent aspect, and all the aristocracy of the place. The service begins. Mr. Parnassus has been chosen as best man, and has
composed an ode for the occasion. Mr. Oldstone has begged the honour of
giving away the bride, which duty he performs with great dignity. A dead
silence reigns as the bridegroom places the ring on the chubby finger of
his bride. The benediction is given, the register is signed, _et c'est
une affaire fini_. The bridal pair march out of church to the joyous
strains of the organ, treading beneath their feet along the aisle the
flowers that friendly rustics have strewn across their path. Bride and
bridegroom then step into their carriage and drive back to the house of
the bride, where a sumptuous wedding breakfast awaits them. Nor were the
wedding presents wanting. The members of the club had subscribed, and
presented the pair with a handsome punch-bowl and silver ladle with the
usual golden guinea inlaid in the scoop. The parents of the bride
presented their daughter with a handsome piece of carved oak furniture
called a "brideswain," dating back as far as the commonwealth, which
contained linen, goblets, and other useful articles. The old broadbacked farmer, the bride's godfather, who was present, and
whom our readers will recollect was the innocent cause of the disasters
that followed, in that, in his simplicity, he had put Lord Scampford's
bully into possession of the secret of Helen's address, that day at the
Royal Academy; well, the bride's godfather and his spouse between them
presented the couple with a metal dish and cover, besides a case
containing a carving knife, fork, and steel. The bride's aunt, whom we
have mentioned as an invalid, sent an expensive old-fashioned china tea
service and sundry chimney ornaments, while her friends in humbler
circumstances each contributed their little mite. The breakfast went off merrily. The speeches and the toasts, who shall
describe? At length the hour of parting arrived. The carriage drove up, and the
bridal pair entered amid showers of rice and old slippers. Our hero and
heroine were about to set out on a continental tour for their honeymoon,
and intended visiting the eternal city. Perhaps the most touching incident of all occurred at the last moment,
just as the happy pair were entering their carriage. Mr. Oldstone, who had been very moist on the occasion, drew off his
antique ring, of which we have heard so much, from his forefinger and
placed it on that of his protégé, saying with much emotion: "Take it, my
son; take it with an old man's blessing. Preserve it as an heirloom, for
I shall never wear it more." *       *       *       *       *

"Poor old man!" said our artist with some emotion, when they had left
the home of the bride a mile behind. "To think that he should make _me_
this valuable present, and that I hadn't time to thank him at the last. I must write to him on the very first opportunity. Why, Helen, can you
guess the value of this gem? I would sooner possess this ring than all
the money he has in the world. I never thought he would give it away to
anyone during his lifetime. Did you ever hear the legend attached to
it?" "Well, yes; I think I _was_ present when Mr. Oldstone told his story,"
said Helen; "but I am sure I don't recollect anything about it now. You
shall tell it to me over again some other time, darling." "With pleasure, dearest," replied her husband. "It is a long story, and
at present we have so many other things to think of, haven't we, love?" "Yes, dear," was the reply. "And you think you will continue to love me as much as you did at first,
darling?" demanded the newly married man of his young wife. "Oh! Van; how can you ask such a question?" exclaimed the bride. "Why, I
love you more and more every minute." "Then give hubby a pretty kiss," was the rejoinder. Two pouting rosebuds were thrust upwards into the husband's face, upon
which he settled like a bee upon a flower extracting nectar and
ambrosia; and thus we will leave them. L'ENVOI.