University of Virginia Library

5. CHAPTER V.
WEDDING, AND WEDDING-TRIP.

WELL, and so they were married, with all the
newest modern forms, ceremonies, and accessories.

Every possible thing was done to reflect lustre on
the occasion. There were eight bridesmaids, and every
one of them fair as the moon; and eight groomsmen,
with white-satin ribbons and white rosebuds in their
button-holes; and there was a bishop, assisted by a
priest, to give the solemn benedictions of the church;
and there was a marriage-bell of tuberoses and lilies,
of enormous size, swinging over the heads of the pair
at the altar; and there were voluntaries on the organ,
and chantings, and what not, all solemn and impressive
as possible. In the midst of all this, the fair Lillie
promised, “forsaking all others, to keep only unto him,
so long as they both should live,” — “to love, honor,
and obey, until death did them part.”

During the whole agitating scene, Lillie kept up her
presence of mind, and was perfectly aware of what she
was about; so that a very fresh, original, and crisp
style of trimming, that had been invented in Paris

specially for her wedding toilet, received no detriment
from the least unguarded movement. We much regret
that it is contrary to our literary principles to write
half, or one third, in French; because the wedding-dress,
by far the most important object on this occasion,
and certainly one that most engrossed the thoughts
of the bride, was one entirely indescribable in English.
Just as there is no word in the Hottentot vocabulary
for “holiness,” or “purity,” so there are no words in
our savage English to describe a lady's dress; and,
therefore, our fair friends must be recommended, on
this point, to exercise their imagination in connection
with the study of the finest French plates, and they
may get some idea of Lillie in her wedding robe and
train.

Then there was the wedding banquet, where everybody
ate quantities of the most fashionable, indigestible
horrors, with praiseworthy courage and enthusiasm; for
what is to become of “paté de fois gras” if we don't
eat it? What is to become of us if we do is entirely a
secondary question.

On the whole, there was not one jot nor tittle of the
most exorbitant requirements of fashion that was not
fulfilled on this occasion. The house was a crush of
wilting flowers, and smelt of tuberoses enough to give
one a vertigo for a month. A band of music brayed
and clashed every minute of the time; and a jam of
people, in elegant dresses, shrieked to each other above
the din, and several of Lillie's former admirers got tipsy
in the supper-room. In short, nothing could be finer;

and it was agreed, on all hands, that it was “stunning.”
Accounts of it, and of all the bride's dresses, presents,
and even wardrobe, went into the daily papers; and
thus was the charming Lillie Ellis made into Mrs. John
Seymour.

Then followed the approved wedding journey, the
programme of which had been drawn up by Lillie herself,
with carte blanche from John, and included every
place where a bride's new toilets could be seen in
the most select fashionable circles. They went to
Niagara and Trenton, they went to Newport and Saratoga,
to the White Mountains and Montreal; and Mrs.
John Seymour was a meteor of fashionable wonder
and delight at all these places. Her dresses and her
diamonds, her hats and her bonnets, were all wonderful
to behold. The stir and excitement that she had
created as simple Miss Ellis was nothing to the stir
and excitement about Mrs. John Seymour. It was the
mere grub compared with the full-blown butterfly, —
the bud compared with the rose. Wherever she appeared,
her old admirers flocked in her train. The
unmarried girls were, so to speak, nowhere. Marriage
was a new lease of power and splendor, and she revelled
in it like a humming-bird in the sunshine.

And was John equally happy? Well, to say the
truth, John's head was a little turned by the possession
of this curious and manifold creature, that fluttered
and flapped her wings about the eyes and ears of his
understanding, and appeared before him every day in
some new device of the toilet, fair and fresh; smiling

and bewitching, kissing and coaxing, laughing and crying,
and in all ways bewildering him, the once sober-minded
John, till he scarce knew whether he stood on
his head or his heels. He knew that this sort of rattling,
scatter-brained life must come to an end some
time. He knew there was a sober, serious life-work
for him; something that must try his mind and soul
and strength, and that would, by and by, leave him
neither time nor strength to be the mere wandering
attaché of a gay bird, whose string he held in hand,
and who now seemed to pull him hither and thither at
her will.

John thought of all these things at intervals; and
then, when he thought of the quiet, sober, respectable
life at Springdale, of the good old staple families, with
their steady ways, — of the girls in his neighborhood
with their reading societies, their sewing-circles for the
poor, their book-clubs and art-unions for practice in
various accomplishments, — he thought, with apprehension,
that there appeared not a spark of interest in
his charmer's mind for any thing in this direction. She
never had read any thing, — knew nothing on all those
subjects about which the women and young girls in his
circle were interested; while, in Springdale, there were
none of the excitements which made her interested in
life. He could not help perceiving that Lillie's five
hundred particular friends were mostly of the other sex,
and wondering whether he alone, when the matter
should be reduced to that, could make up to her for all
her retinue of slaves.

Like most good boys who grow into good men, John
had unlimited faith in women. Whatever little defects
and flaws they might have, still at heart he supposed
they were all of the same substratum as his
mother and sister. The moment a woman was married,
he imagined that all the lovely domestic graces
would spring up in her, no matter what might have
been her previous disadvantages, merely because she
was a woman. He had no doubt of the usual orthodox
oak-and-ivy theory in relation to man and woman; and
that his wife, when he got one, would be the clinging
ivy that would bend her flexible tendrils in the way his
strong will and wisdom directed. He had never, perhaps,
seen, in southern regions, a fine tree completely
smothered and killed in the embraces of a gay, flaunting
parasite; and so received no warning from vegetable
analogies.

Somehow or other, he was persuaded, he should
gradually bring his wife to all his own ways of thinking,
and all his schemes and plans and opinions. This
might, he thought, be difficult, were she one of the
pronounced, strong-minded sort, accustomed to thinking
and judging for herself. Such a one, he could
easily imagine, there might be a risk in encountering in
the close intimacy of domestic life. Even in his dealings
with his sister, he was made aware of a force of
character and a vigor of intellect that sometimes made
the carrying of his own way over hers a matter of some
difficulty. Were it not that Grace was the best of
women, and her ways always the very best of ways,

John was not so sure but that she might prove a little
too masterful for him.

But this lovely bit of pink and white; this downy,
gauzy, airy little elf; this creature, so slim and slender
and unsubstantial, — surely he need have no fear that
he could not mould and control and manage her? Oh,
no! He imagined her melting, like a moon-beam, into
all manner of sweet compliances, becoming an image
and reflection of his own better self; and repeated to
himself the lines of Wordsworth, —

John fancied he saw his little Lillie subdued into a
pattern wife, weaned from fashionable follies, eagerly
seeking mental improvement under his guidance, and
joining him and Grace in all sorts of edifying works
and ways.

The reader may see, from the conversations we have
detailed, that nothing was farther from Lillie's intentions
than any such conformity.

The intentions of the married pair, in fact, ran
exactly contrary to one another. John meant to bring
Lillie to a sober, rational, useful family life; and Lillie
meant to run a career of fashionable display, and make
John pay for it.

Neither, at present, stated their purposes precisely
to the other, because they were “honey-mooning.”
John, as yet, was the enraptured lover; and Lillie was
his pink and white sultana, — his absolute mistress,
her word was law, and his will was hers. How the
case was ever to be reversed, so as to suit the terms of
the marriage service, John did not precisely inquire.

But, when husband and wife start in life with exactly
opposing intentions, which, think you, is likely to conquer,
— the man, or the woman? That is a very nice
question, and deserves further consideration.