 of
place, of situation, and of character, would operate a more speedy and effectual
cure upon the unsettled spirits of her daughter, than could be attained by the
slow measures which the medical men recommended. Sir William Ashton's views of
family aggrandisement, and his desire to strengthen himself against the measures
of the Marquis of A--, readily induced him to acquiesce in what he could not
have perhaps resisted if willing to do so. As for the young men, Bucklaw and
Colonel Ashton, they protested, that after what had happened, it would be most
dishonourable to postpone for a single hour the time appointed for the marriage,
as it would be generally ascribed to their being intimidated by the intrusive
visit and threats of Ravenswood.
    Bucklaw would indeed have been incapable of such precipitation, had he been
aware of the state of Miss Ashton's health, or rather of her mind. But custom,
upon these occasions, permitted only brief and sparing intercourse between the
bridegroom and the betrothed; a circumstance so well improved by Lady Ashton,
that Bucklaw neither saw nor suspected the real state of the health and feelings
of his unhappy bride.
    On the eve of the bridal day, Lucy appeared to have one of her fits of
levity, and surveyed with a degree of girlish interest, the various preparations
of dress, etc. etc., which the different members of the family had prepared for
the occasion.
    The morning dawned bright and cheerily. The bridal guests assembled in
gallant troops from distant quarters. Not only the relations of Sir William
Ashton, and the still more dignified connections of his lady, together with the
numerous kinsmen and allies of the bridegroom, were present upon this joyful
ceremony, gallantly mounted, arrayed and caparisoned, but almost every
Presbyterian family of distinction, within fifty miles, made a point of
attendance upon an occasion which was considered as giving a sort of triumph
over the Marquis of A--, in the person of his kinsman. Splendid refreshments
awaited the guests on their arrival, and after these were finished, the cry was
to horse. The bride was led forth betwixt her brother Henry and her mother. Her
gaiety of the preceding day had given rise to a deep shade of melancholy, which,
however did not misbecome an occasion so momentous. There was a light in her
eyes, and a colour in her cheek, which had not been kindled for many a day, and
which, joined to her great beauty, and the splendour of her dress, occasioned
her entrance to be greeted with a universal murmur of applause, in which even
the ladies could
