38. CHAPTER XXXVIII.
END OF THE HISTORY.
The bishop came from Summerton to perform the ceremony.
Three weddings at a time! For after Edmund and Lucy, and
Walter and Virginia were irrevocably linked together, Mr.
William Dizzle and Miss Patty O'Pan were also joined in
wedlock.
It would be impossible to describe with the pen the felicities
of that day. The company present came from as many as
three cities; and satins and jewels, and happy faces surrounded
the altar. Even Mrs. Edwards was there, in the gallery, while
Sergeant Blore looked in from an open window, having had a
platform erected for the purpose on the outside. And while
his single eye beame like a star on the faces of Walter and
Lucy, Mrs. Edwards' optics were fixed upon him. When the
ceremony was over, and the party were partaking of the refreshments
prepared at the Widow Winkle's mansion, the sergeant
emerged from behind the church in fancied security.
But he was confronted at the gate by a man over six feet in
height.
“My mother wishes to see you, sir,” said the stranger.
“She says she has something to say which you will be delighted
to hear.”
“Who are you?—and who is your mother?” demanded the
old warrior.
“Mrs. Edwards is my mother, sir; and I am in the service
of the Countess of Hilton.”
“Mrs. Edwards! And she was my wife! Sir—who was
your father? What is your name?”
“Dick Edwards, sir.”
“Dick Edwards! Well, Mr. Edwards, what do you want
with me? My name is Thomas Blore—and I hope you have
not come to claim me as your father! I won't acknowledge you,
sir! I deny it, sir! I'll—knock you down, sir!” continued
the sergeant, lifting his stick.
But Dick being called away, to attend his mistress, the furious
sergeant was left alone in his fury.
The merry cavalcade following the coaches, proceeded out
on the road leading to Mr. Napoleon Winkle's mansion, where
preparations had been made for a grand festival.
Blore followed on foot, growling and gesticulating angrily,
for the appearance of Mr. Dick Edwards had thrown him into a
most violent passion, at the moment when he supposed he was
about to have a day of perfect happiness. When he arrived
at the garrison, however, he was met by Walter, who appeased
him by the comfortable assurance that Mrs. Edwards was to
sail for England the next week. At the mansion, Mrs. Laurel,
Mrs. Winkle, Miss Wilsome and Miss Flora surveyed with
pleasure the vast arrangements consummated by Napoleon for
the entertainment of the guests.
The sumptuous feast and the merry dance filled the first
day; and the next morning the brides crowned the good old
John Dowly with wreaths of flowers. And after that ceremony
was over, Miss Wilsome proposed that a row of tables
should be placed in the long saloon, and that the company be
divided into whist parties! Her brother Napoleon offered an
entertainment on the lawn, where the whole park of artillery
had been drawn up and charged to the muzzles. But Colonel
Oakdale objected. He said the stunning noise would be too
shocking for the ladies, and that the smoke would spoil their
dresses. But he suggested that Edmund and Walter should
accompany him into the meadows with their guns, where there
would be excellent sport among the woodcock. Miss Flora
Blount said such a selfish proposition was most abominable,
and that the brides would never consent to it. Lucy and
Virginia confirmed her opinion; but neither could they sanction
the scheme she proposed, which was merely a recapitulation
of all the romantic incidents connected with their several
courtships.
While they were discussing the means of adding to their
bliss, which would have been a vain endeavor, a carriage drove
up to the portico, from which descended Mr. and Mrs. Parke.
Then it was understood why Julia Nitre had disappointed her
cousin Virginia.
“I promised to be present at the wedding,” said Julia.
“And you meant your own,” said Virginia.
It was confessed that they had been “engaged” for several
months, and had deliberately planned the surprise.
Several months after these happy events, our principal
characters, as well as thousands besides, were shocked to read
the announcement of the death of the poet, Harold Pollen.
Of all the vicissitudes which had attended his erratic career,
the final one was the most deplorable. He died after a brief
illness, and before his friends could learn the particulars of his
condition, in the Almshouse!
Gusset never sought to annoy her husband again, but lived
in humble obscurity under the advice of Father Xavier, who
did not desire a renewal of hostilities with the Winkles.
Blore fought his battles ever again for many a day, under
the direction of his old commander, and without molestation
from the young mistress of the mansion, the lovely Virginia.
The widow Winkle could not be induced to abandon her
abode in the village; but every year she spent a portion of her
time with Walter at the chateau, in company with Wilsome and
Flora, and where John Dowly was ever an honored guest.
Lucy, the new countess, and her sensible lord, came over
regularly once a year in an American streamer. And Lowe
never ceased to enjoy the angling and shooting in his old haunts.
Walter had the triumph of defeating Plastic in an exciting
political campaign; while the colonel retained his place in the
Senate.
Roland was cast in a suit prosecuted by Bawson, and adjudged
to pay Elizabeth, his wife, two thousand dollars per
annum for her maintenance.
Bill Dizzle and Patty occupied a comfortable farm-house
on Walter's estate—the one catching, the other cooking the
frogs and “turtles.”
Honoria disappeared after the publication of Walter's nuptials.
It was surmised that she had entered a convent. But
Mr. Fimble continued to obtain lucrative contracts from the
government, until the inauguration of the next President, who
was an American.
THE END.
