For Womans Love | Page 4

only daughter. Sylvanus, a fine, manly young fellow,
resembled his Uncle Clarence in person and in character, having the
same truthfulness, generosity and sincerity, but with a mocking spirit,
which turned evil into ridicule rather than into a subject of serious
rebuke. He was three years younger than his sister. Corona was a
beautiful brunette, tall, like all the Rockharrts, with a superbly
developed form, a fine head, adorned with a full suit of fine curly black
hair, delicate classic features, straight, low forehead, aquiline nose, a
"Cupid's bow" mouth, and finely curved chin. This was her
wedding-day and she wore her bridal dress of pure white satin, with
veil of thread lace and wreath of orange buds. Hers was the very
triumph of a love match, for she was about to wed one whom she had
loved from earliest childhood, and for whom she had waited long years.

Here was Corona Haught's great victory. She had seen his opponents,
her own family, bow down and worship her idol. Yet, at the
culmination of her triumph, on this her bridal day, why did she sit so
pale and wan?
From her deep, sad reverie she was aroused by the entrance of her six
gay bridesmaids.
"Corona, love, good morning! Many happy returns, and so on!" said
Flora Fields, the first bridesmaid, coming up to the pale bride and
kissing her.
All the others followed the example, and then Miss Fields said:
"Cora, dear, 'the scene is set'--otherwise, the company are all assembled
in the drawing-room. Grandpapa and grandmamma are in their seats of
honor. The bishop, in his canonicals, is waiting; the groom and his
groomsmen are expectant. Are you ready?"
"I know getting married must be a serious, a solemn, even an awful
thing when it comes to the point. And most brides do look pale! But
you--you look ghastly! Come, take some composing spirits of
lavender--do!"
"Yes; you may give me some. You will find the vial on the
dressing-table."
The restorative was administered, and then the "bevy of fair maids" left
the chamber and went down stairs.
There, in the great hall, they met the bridegroom and his six
groomsmen; for it was the custom of that time and place to have a
groomsman for each bridesmaid. The bridegroom and governor-elect
was not a handsome man--that was conceded even by his best
friends--but he was tall and muscular, with a look of strength,
manliness and nobility that was impressive. A son of the people truly,
but with the brain of the ruler. The whole rugged form and face
assumed a gentleness and courtesy that almost conferred grace and

beauty upon him, as he advanced to greet his bride.
Why did she shrink from him?
No one knew. It was only for a moment; and happily, he, in the
simplicity of a single, honest heart, had not seen the momentary
shudder.
He drew her hand within his arm, looked down on her with a beam of
ineffable tenderness and adoration, and then waited, as he had been
instructed to do, until the groomsmen and bridesmaids had formed the
procession that was to usher them into the drawing-room and before the
officiating bishop. They entered the crowded apartment. The bishop, in
his white robes, stood on the rug, supported by the Rev. Mr. Wells,
temporary minister of the mission church at North End, and the
ceremony began. All went on well until he came to that part where the
officiating minister must read--though a mere form this solemn
adjuration to the contracting lovers:
"'I require and charge ye both, as ye shall answer at the dreadful day of
judgment, when the secrets of all hearts shall be disclosed, that if either
of you know just cause why ye may not be united in matrimony, ye do
now declare it.'"
There was a pause, to give opportunity for reply, if any reply was to be
made--a mere form, as the adjuration itself was. Yet the bride
shuddered throughout her frame. Many noticed it, but not the
bridegroom.
The ceremony went on.
"'Who giveth this woman to be married to this man?'"
Old Aaron Rockharrt, who stood on the right of the bridal party,
stepped forth, took his granddaughter's hand, and placed it in that of the
groom, saying, with visible pride:
"I do."

The rites went on to their conclusion, and the whole party were invited
into the dining-room, where the marriage feast was spread, where the
revelry lasted two full hours, and might have lingered longer had not
the bride withdrawn from the table, and, attended by her bridesmaids,
retired to her chamber to change her bridal robes for a plain traveling
suit of silver gray silk, with hat and gloves to match.
There the gentle, timid, old grandmother came to bid