CHAPTER XXVII. "He spoke to her with manly word, ERALD LAURENCE arrived in London in the end of March, and did not wait long before calling on the Armfields. He was a tall, fair young man, with a handsome, honest face, which no one could help liking, and pleasant, winning manners. Phillis took him into her favour at once, from his great likeness to his father, for the judge was a favourite of hers. It was evident that he had not forgotten his old friendship with Julia, and was anxious to renew it, but that young lady was so capricious, that it was not so easy to discover whether she cared for his companionship or not. Being far from strong, he was not able to take part in any of the spring gaieties, but he contrived to find his way pretty often to Auriol Square with Amy, when no excitements were going on to call the family from home. Mrs. Armfield, however, had no time to make schemes for her second daughter, all her thoughts being centred on the great event of Florence's approaching marriage, which was fixed for the sixth of June. It was to be a very grand affair indeed, and Phillis grew very tired of the constant discussions about bridesmaids' dresses, and various other details about which no one could agree. She felt glad that it was not her wedding which caused all the fuss. Most of her thoughts were given to the lovers themselves. She wondered how Florence felt, now that the time was drawing so very near for her to become Lord Exmoor's wife, and whether she had grown really to love him since her engagement. Phillis thought she must have, or she could not be so glad to marry; for Mr. Ormville's offer to herself had made her feel more than ever how dreadful a marriage without love must be. She had recoiled from the prospect with so much horror, that it seemed quite impossible to her that others should not do the same, and so she made up her mind that Florence must care for Lord Exmoor, though with her proud manner she might not shew it. Simple-minded little Phillis! She was too pure to understand the world's ways, and was always ready to take the brightest view of things which puzzled her. "Well, Phillis,” said Julia, the night before the wedding, "don't you feel a sharp pang of regret, when you reflect that all these preparations might have been for you as well as Flo? Wouldn't you like to recall Mr. Ormville, and tell him that a wedding is really so delightful-in prospectand an orange-wreath so becoming, that you are longing to wear one yourself, and are sorry that you ever tried to throw away the chance?" it “No!” said Phillis indignantly; "I didn't try to throw away. I did throw it away, and I don't ever want him to give it to me again! And when I am married, if I ever am, I would rather not have quite such a fuss made. I should think Florence will never want to see a piece of lace again. I don't think I shall !" "Are you so tired of being 'tried on?'" said Julia, laughing. "Poor child! But never mind; when you see your image reflected in the glass to-morrow in dazzling splendour, you will forget all the trials you have gone through, and be lost in admiration." "Of myself?" asked Phillis, laughing. not be at all proper." "That would I am "Proper or not," said Julia, "it will be the case. prepared to bear all kinds of slighting remarks myself, for I feel that I, as well as all the other bridesmaids, shall be eclipsed hopelessly. But, my dear Phillis, you were not so disgusted at all the vanities attending Clara's wedding?" "Because we had only a little bit of the fuss," said Phillis. "Besides, though that was a pretty wedding, I shouldn't think there was half the fuss in getting ready for that which there has been for Florence's." "You forget, my dear," said Julia solemnly, "that Lady Exmoor's wedding must be quite exceptional-something quite out of the common. Mamma's ambition, joined with Florence's, could not possibly be satisfied with less splendour than you will see displayed to-morrow; and as for Charles, I believe he is rubbing up his rings at this very moment ,, The wedding-day dawned bright and clear, and crowds assembled in the church to witness the important ceremony; but the haughty face of the bride shewed no nervousness or emotion. Proudly she walked up the aisle, leaning on her father's arm, and her answers were given in the same distinct, cold voice in which she always spoke. The bridegroom was far less composed, but he looked very happy and proud of his handsome wife as he led her to the vestry. Phillis watched him afterwards at the breakfast, and thought that he, at least, seemed satisfied. It was difficult to tell what Florence's feelings were, or whether, indeed, there were any hidden under that marble exterior. Mrs. Armfield was exultant, and more gracious than could have been believed possible. At last her desire was realised; Florence was Lady Exmoor beyond recall. Phillis was almost bewildered by the splendour of that breakfast. Clara Forsyth's could not be compared to it, and yet Phillis had enjoyed her wedding a great deal more. The bride and bridegroom were to spend their honeymoon in Switzerland. Most of the guests remained behind for a dance, and among them the Laurences, including Gerald. Phillis had been puzzling her brain for some days on the subject of this gentleman and her cousin Julia, but could arrive at no conclusion with regard to the latter. At times she would appear perfectly happy in Gerald's society, would sing or play to him as much as he liked, or talk over old times and old pleasures they had had together, as if nothing were more pleasant to her than such recollections; and at other times she would be petulant or indifferent, and turn from him carelessly, as if he were no more to her than any ordinary acquaintance. Phillis felt troubled about it, because she was sure that Gerald liked Julia very much, and saw all that was good in her beneath her frivolous manner and seeming fickleness, and she often noticed that he looked sorrowful when Julia was in her contrary mood. But on this night she had one of her good fits; the loss of Florence had sobered her a little, and she did not feel inclined for her usual rattle. Gerald went home delighted, thinking that he was making way at last. He had been as much puzzled as Phillis by Julia's changeable ways, but he would not despair, for he had loved her when they were boy and girl together, and in spite of the frequent quarrels, in which she had always been to blame, he had gone out to India fully hoping to make her his wife some day. He was disappointed on his return to find so little change in her manner, and yet he would not give her up. "Well, Phillis," remarked Mrs. Armfield severely, as she bade her good-night, "I hope that in witnessing your cousin's happiness you have felt, and felt deeply, your own folly and childishness in rejecting Mr. Ormville. This day might have been as happy and advantageous a one to you as it has been for my Florence, but you chose to spurn the hand offered you, and the brilliant lot which might have been yours, and therefore regrets are useless. Nevertheless, I hope that you do feel most sincere regret for your foolish conduct." "No, aunt Laura," said Phillis, almost eagerly; "I don't at all. I am very, very glad Mr. Ormville went away, and I haven't envied Florence one bit. I don't want a wedding for a very long time. Why, if I married I should never go back to Earlesmere, and I could not possibly be happy without that." "Earlesmere, indeed!" said Mrs. Armfield with scorn. "I wonder you can ever think of that place, Phillis! Such plebeian recollections had much better be buried in oblivion." And the lady swept upstairs. She had forgotten the truly grateful spirit in which she delighted. "Plebeian, indeed!" said Phillis to herself indignantly, and her thoughts reverted to her Roman History. "Mr. Overton is much more like a patrician! He would make a delightful master of an old-fashioned castle; I wish I could give him one. He is ten times more a gentleman than Mr. Ormville or Charles. In a little more than a year I shall go back; how delightful it will be!" Margate was the place chosen this year for the summer trip, but Mrs. Armfield did not care to leave London so soon as usual, now that Florence had left home, so the whole family removed together at the end of August. The Laurences, as usual, went to Brighton, so Gerald and Julia were for a time separated; but whether Julia was in the least distressed by the circumstance nobody could have told. She was her usual rattling self, but one change had come over her, she no longer cared so much for the shop-windows |