It was a right joyous group that gathered around the wedding breakfast
table at 54 Harley Street, on that bright summer morn, that saw Emily
Barton made the happy bride of the equally happy Rector of Vellenaux. A
friendly Bishop tied the connubial knot in one of the most aristocratic
churches in London, and a few hours afterwards Emily and Charles
departed, not by rail, to some uncomfortable foreign hotel, but by
travelling, carriage and post horses to their home at Vellenaux. For the
guests who had assembled to witness the wedding ceremony, there was
another treat in store, they were invited to a ball given in honor of
the occasion by the brother of the bride, at his mansion in Berkly
Square, concerning which more anon.
The term for which the Willows had been rented, now expired, and Horace
determined to no longer delay his departure for Devonshire. This had
been ever in his mind while serving in India. He loved the old place and
there were now fresh inducements for him to give up the house in London,
and repair to the Willows. His brother Tom was married and settled at
Vellenaux, and Emily had just become the wife of the rector, and lived
within a stone's throw of her old home. Thus, with the visits of his
aunt and the Ashburnham's, Pauline would not be without society; besides
he would take her and Edith, whom he now looked upon as a sister, to
London during the height of the gay season, and this he thought would
not fail to please all parties.
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