"
* * * * *
"With this ring I thee wed," he found himself saying to a little
figure in a soft grey gown at his side, while a gentle-faced
old clergyman in a snowy surplice stood before him, and a
square-shouldered, soldierly person in a brilliant uniform almost
hugged his elbow.
"I pronounce you man and wife." At the words she turned towards her
husband like a carrier pigeon winging for home. Then somehow the
solemnity all disappeared. The major, the major's wife, two handsome
young officers, one girl friend, the clergyman, the clergyman's
wife, were all embracing her, and she was dimpling with laughter
and happiness; and George Mansion stood proudly by, his fine dark
face eager, tender and very noble.
"My dear," whispered the major's wife, "he's a perfect prince--he's
just as royal as he can be! I never saw such manners, such ease.
Why, girlie, he's a courtier!"
"Confound the young rogue!" growled the major, in her ear. "I
haven't an officer on my staff that can equal him. You're a lucky
girl. Yes, confound him, I say!"
"Bless you, child," said the clergyman's wife. "I think he'll make
you happy. Be very sure that you make _him_ happy."
And to all these whole-hearted wishes and comments, Lydia replied
with smiles and care-free words.
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