Witness to the Deed Part 5

"What do the looks matter?" she said with a dreamy look in her large eyes.

"Well, I don't know. Woman ought to please her husband, and isn't it a mistake to dress--well, to parade that nonsense about your being a widow."

"Nonsense, dear?" said Myra, smiling sadly. "It was no nonsense.

Whatever that man may have been I swore at the altar to be his faithful wife."

"Till death did you part, eh? Yes, yes, yes," said the admiral testily, "but he's dead and gone and forgotten; there is no need to dig him up again."

"Papa!"

"Well, I mean by going to what will be a real wedding in half mourning."

"Malcolm agreed that I was right, dear."

"Oh, then I'm wrong. Only, if I had known, I should have put my foot down--hard. Why, even Edie was hinting at it just now."

"Let the past rest, dear," said Myra gently.

"After this morning--yes, my darling. But I always feel as if I ought to apologise to you, Myra."

"No, no, dear."

"But I say yes. The clever, plausible scoundrel dazzled me, and I thought your opposition only maidenly shrinking. Yes, dazzled me, with his wit and cheery manners, knowledge of the world, and such a game, too, as he played at piquet. It was ash.o.r.e, you see, and he was too much for me. If I'd had him at sea it would have been different. I was to blame all through--but you forgive me all the misery I caused you?"

"My dear father!"

"Ah, there I am crus.h.i.+ng your dress again. Stratton's a lucky dog, and we'll think it was all for the best."

"Of course, dear."

"Showed what a good true-hearted fellow he was--sort of probationer, eh?"

Myra turned her head. She could not speak--only clung to the parent she was so soon to leave.

"Then good-bye to James Barron, alias Dale, and all his works, Myra.

Oh, dear me! In a very short time it will be Mrs Malcolm Stratton, and I shall be all alone."

"No, you will not, uncle," said Edie, who had entered un.o.bserved after letting off a fusillade of sobs outside the door, and her pretty grey eyes a little redder, "and you are not to talk like that to Myra; she wants comforting. Uncle will not be alone, dear, for I shall do all I can to make him happy."

"Bah! A jade, a cheat, my dear. Don't believe her," cried the admiral merrily; "she has a strange Guest in her eye--Hotspur--Percy. Look at her."

"Don't, Myra dear. Kiss uncle and come back to your room," and after a loving embrace between father and daughter the bridesmaid carried off the bride to the room where the travelling trunks lay ready packed, the bridal veil on a chair; and after the last touches had been given to the bride's toilet, the cousins were left alone.

"Now, Myra darling, any more commands for me about uncle? We may not have another chance."

"No, dear," said the bride thoughtfully. "I could say nothing you will not think of for yourself. Don't let him miss me, dear."

"You know I will not. Bless you, pet; you happy darling, you've won the best husband in the world. But how funny it seems to have to go through all this again."

"Hush, dear. Don't--pray don't talk about it."

"I can't help it, Myra; my tongue will talk this morning. Oh, I am so glad that it will be all right this time."

Myra's brow contracted a little, but her cousin rattled on.

"It has always seemed to me such stuff to talk of you as a widow. Oh, Myra, don't look like that. What a stupid, thoughtless thing I am."

She flung her arms about her cousin, and was again bursting into tears when there was a tap at the door, and she shrank away.

"Come in."

One of the lady's maids appeared.

"Sir Mark says, ma'am, that the carriages are waiting, and Miss Jerrold will not come up."

Myra took her bouquet and turned calmly to her cousin as the maid burst out with:

"G.o.d bless you, Miss Myra--I mean madame. May you be very happy."

The second maid was at hand to second the wish, and the pair performed a duet in sobs as the cousins swept down the broad staircase to the admiral's room.

"Time, my dear, time," cried Sir Mark jovially. "Come, Edie, aunt will be furious if you keep her any longer."

Edie took his arm, but dropped it again to run and kiss her cousin once again. Then tripping to the old man's side he led her down the broad staircase and across the hall, now pretty well thronged with visitors, and the servants in the background to see the departure.

A carriage was in waiting, with a tall, stern looking, grey lady inside.

"Late, Mark," she said sharply. "Come Edie, my child, and let's get it over."

"You're all alike," said the admiral, as the bridesmaid took her place, the carriage started, and with head erect the old sailor strode back, seeing n.o.body, and went up to his room, to return soon after, amid a buzz of whispering, proudly leading down the bride.

"And only one bridesmaid," whispered a lady visitor at the hotel.

"Young widow--very private affair--by the lady's wish," was whispered back loudly enough for Myra and her father to hear as they pa.s.sed down the steps.

"Let them chatter," said the old man to himself. "They haven't seen such a bride for years."

Quite a little crowd followed to the hotel door, there was a general waving of handkerchiefs, and one lady threw a bouquet of white roses as the carriage door was shut with a bang, the servant sprang up, and the next moment the admiral's handsome pair of bays dashed off toward the great West End church.

CHAPTER FOUR.

THE SCENE OF SHAME.

"Poor old chap!" said Percy Guest, with a laugh. "Married? Looked as if he was going to be hanged. Wonder whether I shall be as nervous and upset if--if--I ought to say when--it comes off? No, not likely, bless her. Might be all in a fidget to get it over for fear of a slip, but I don't think I should look like that."

He was approaching the church as these ideas ran through his head, and a glance at the clock showed him that he was half an hour too soon, consequent upon being hurried off by his friend.