Sketches of Young Couples | Page 3

she ought to be--and there too is Miss Emma's sister
with her arms round her neck, and the other bridesmaid all smiles and
tears, quieting the children, who would cry more but that they are so
finely dressed, and yet sob for fear sister Emma should be taken
away--and it is all so affecting, that the two servant-girls cry more than
anybody; and Jane Adams, sitting down upon the stairs, when they
have crept away, declares that her legs tremble so that she don't know
what to do, and that she will say for Miss Emma, that she never had a
hasty word from her, and that she does hope and pray she may be
happy.
But Jane soon comes round again, and then surely there never was
anything like the breakfast table, glittering with plate and china, and set
out with flowers and sweets, and long-necked bottles, in the most
sumptuous and dazzling manner. In the centre, too, is the mighty charm,
the cake, glistening with frosted sugar, and garnished beautifully. They
agree that there ought to be a little Cupid under one of the barley-sugar

temples, or at least two hearts and an arrow; but, with this exception,
there is nothing to wish for, and a table could not be handsomer. As
they arrive at this conclusion, who should come in but Mr. John! to
whom Jane says that its only Anne from number six; and John says HE
knows, for he's often winked his eye down the area, which causes Anne
to blush and look confused. She is going away, indeed; when Mr. John
will have it that she must drink a glass of wine, and he says never mind
it's being early in the morning, it won't hurt her: so they shut the door
and pour out the wine; and Anne drinking lane's health, and adding,
'and here's wishing you yours, Mr. John,' drinks it in a great many
sips,--Mr. John all the time making jokes appropriate to the occasion.
At last Mr. John, who has waxed bolder by degrees, pleads the usage at
weddings, and claims the privilege of a kiss, which he obtains after a
great scuffle; and footsteps being now heard on the stairs, they disperse
suddenly.
By this time a carriage has driven up to convey the bride to church, and
Anne of number six prolonging the process of 'cleaning her door,' has
the satisfaction of beholding the bride and bridesmaids, and the papa
and mamma, hurry into the same and drive rapidly off. Nor is this all,
for soon other carriages begin to arrive with a posse of company all
beautifully dressed, at whom she could stand and gaze for ever; but
having something else to do, is compelled to take one last long look
and shut the street-door.
And now the company have gone down to breakfast, and tears have
given place to smiles, for all the corks are out of the long-necked
bottles, and their contents are disappearing rapidly. Miss Emma's papa
is at the top of the table; Miss Emma's mamma at the bottom; and
beside the latter are Miss Emma herself and her husband,-- admitted on
all hands to be the handsomest and most interesting young couple ever
known. All down both sides of the table, too, are various young ladies,
beautiful to see, and various young gentlemen who seem to think so;
and there, in a post of honour, is an unmarried aunt of Miss Emma's,
reported to possess unheard-of riches, and to have expressed vast
testamentary intentions respecting her favourite niece and new nephew.
This lady has been very liberal and generous already, as the jewels

worn by the bride abundantly testify, but that is nothing to what she
means to do, or even to what she has done, for she put herself in close
communication with the dressmaker three months ago, and prepared a
wardrobe (with some articles worked by her own hands) fit for a
Princess. People may call her an old maid, and so she may be, but she
is neither cross nor ugly for all that; on the contrary, she is very
cheerful and pleasant-looking, and very kind and tender- hearted:
which is no matter of surprise except to those who yield to popular
prejudices without thinking why, and will never grow wiser and never
know better.
Of all the company though, none are more pleasant to behold or better
pleased with themselves than two young children, who, in honour of
the day, have seats among the guests. Of these, one is a little fellow of
six or eight years old, brother to the bride,--and the other a girl of the
same age, or something younger, whom he calls 'his wife.' The real
bride and bridegroom are not more devoted than they: he