Beulah - Page 230/348

Pauline's wedding day dawned clear and bright, meet for the happy

event it was to chronicle. The ceremony was to be performed in

church, at an early hour, to enable the newly married pair to leave

on the morning boat, and the building was crowded with the numerous

friends assembled to witness the rites. The minister stood within

the altar, and, after some slight delay, Mr. Mortimor led Pauline

down the aisle. Dr. Hartwell and Mrs. Lockhart stood near the altar.

Mr. Lockhart's indisposition prevented his attendance. Satin, blond,

and diamonds were discarded; Pauline was dressed in a gray traveling

habit and wore a plain drab traveling bonnet.

It was a holy, a touching bridal. The morning sunshine, stealing

through the lofty, arched windows, fell on her pure brow with

dazzling radiance, and lent many a golden wave to the silky,

clustering curls. Pauline was marvelously beautiful; the violet eyes

were dewy with emotion, and her ripe, coral lips wreathed with a

smile of trembling joyousness. Perchance a cursory observer might

have fancied Mr. Mortimor's countenance too grave and thoughtful for

such an occasion; but though the mouth was at rest, and the dark,

earnest eyes sparkled not, there was a light of grateful, chastened

gladness shed over the quiet features. Only a few words were uttered

by the clergyman, and Pauline, the wild, wayward, careless, high-

spirited girl, stood there a wife. She grew deadly pale, and looked

up with a feeling of awe to him who was now, for all time, the

master of her destiny. The vows yet upon her lips bound her

irrevocably to his side, and imposed on her, as a solemn duty, the

necessity of bearing all trials for herself; of smoothing away home

cares from his path; and, when her own heart was troubled, of

putting by the sorrow and bitterness, and ever welcoming his coming

with a word of kindness or a smile of joy. A wife! She must be brave

enough to wrestle with difficulties for herself, instead of wearying

him with all the tedious details of domestic trials, and yet turn to

him for counsel and sympathy in matters of serious import. No longer

a mere self-willed girl, consulting only her own wishes and tastes,

she had given another the right to guide and control her; and now

realizing, for the first time, the importance of the step she had

taken, she trembled in anticipation of the trouble her wayward,

obstinate will would cause her. But with her wonted, buoyant spirit

she turned from all unpleasant reflections, and received the

congratulations of her friends with subdued gayety. Beulah stood at

some distance, watching the April face, checkered with smiles and

tears; and, looking with prophetic dread into the future, she saw

how little genuine happiness could result from a union of natures so

entirely uncongenial. To her the nuptial rites were more awfully

solemn than those of death, for how infinitely preferable was a

quiet resting-place in the shadow of mourning cedars to the lifelong

agony of an unhappy union! She looked up at her quondam guardian, as

he stood, grave and silent, regarding his niece with sadly anxious

eyes; and, as she noted the stern inflexibility of his sculptured

mouth, she thought that he stood there a marble monument, recording

the misery of an ill-assorted marriage. But it was schooltime, and

she approached to say "good-by," as the bridal pair took their seats

in the carriage. Pauline seemed much troubled at bidding her adieu;

she wept silently a minute, then, throwing her arms around Beulah's

neck, whispered pleadingly.