For Woman's Love Part 46

"Mr. Rockharrt, if you please," said Cora.

"For Mr. Rockharrt, then, as well as for his sainted wife, the late Mrs.

Rockharrt. I--"

"Madam!" interrupted Cora. "Is there nothing too holy to be profaned by your lips? You should at least have the good taste to leave that lady's sacred memory alone."

"Certainly, if you wish; but she was a good friend to me, and I served her with a daughter's love and devotion. In my last visit to Rockhold I also served Mr. Rockharrt more zealously than ever, because, indeed, he needed such affectionate service more than before. He has grown so much accustomed to my services that they now seem vitally necessary to him.

But, of course, I cannot take care of him day and night, in parlor and chamber, unless I become his wife--'the Abisheg of his age.' And so, Cora, dear--I beg pardon--Mrs. Rothsay, I have yielded to his pleadings and consented to marry him."

"Mr. Rockharrt has already told me so," coldly replied Cora.

"And, dear, I wish to add this--that the marriage need make no difference in our domestic relations at Rockhold."

"I do not understand you."

"I mean in the family circle."

"Oh! thank you!" said Cora, with the nearest approach to a sneer that ever she made. "I have heard all you have to say, Mrs. Stillwater, and now I have to reply--First, that I give you no credit for any respect or affection that you may profess for Mr. Rockharrt, or for disinterested motives in marrying the aged millionaire."

"Oh, Cora--Mrs. Rothsay!"

"I will say no more on that point. Mr. Rockharrt is old and worn with many business cares. I would not willingly pain or anger him. Therefore, because he wills it, for his sake, not for yours, I will attend you to the altar. Also, if he should desire me to do so, I shall remain at Rockhold until the return of Mr. Fabian Rockharrt."

At the sound of this name Rose Stillwater winced and s.h.i.+vered.

"Then, knowing that his favorite son will be near him, I shall leave him with the freer heart and go away with my brother, withersoever he may be sent. Mr. Fabian is expected to return within a few weeks, and will probably be here long before my brother receives his orders. Now, Mrs.

Stillwater, I think all has been said between us, and you will please excuse my leaving you," said Cora, as she arose and withdrew from the room.

Then Rose Stillwater lost her self-command. Her blue eyes blazed, she set her teeth, she doubled her fist, and shaking it after the vanished form of the lady, she hissed:

"Very well, proud madam! I'll pay you for all this! You shall never touch one cent of old Aaron Rockharrt's millions!"

Having launched this threat, she got up and went to her room. Ten minutes later she drove out in a carriage alone. She did not return to luncheon. Neither did Mr. Rockharrt, who had gone down to Wall Street.

Sylvan and Cora lunched alone, and spent the afternoon together in the parlor, for they had much to say to each other after their long separation, and much also to say of the impending marriage. During that afternoon many packages and bandboxes came by vans, directed to Mrs.

Rose Stillwater. These were sent to her apartment. At dusk Mrs.

Stillwater returned and went directly to her room. She probably did not care to face the brother and sister together, unsupported by their grandfather. A few minutes later Mr. Rockharrt came in, looking moody and defiant, as if quite conscious of the absurdity of his position, or ready to crush any one who betrayed the slightest, sense of humor. Then dinner was served, and Rose Stillwater came out of her room and entered the parlor--a vision of loveliness--her widow's weeds all gone, her dress a violet brocaded satin, with fine lace berthe and sleeve tr.i.m.m.i.n.gs, white throat and white arms encircled with pearl necklace and bracelets; golden red hair dressed high and adorned with a pearl comb.

She came in smiling and took her place at the table.

Old Aaron Rockharrt looked up at her in surprise and not altogether with pleasure. Rose Stillwater, seeing his expression of countenance, got a new insight into the mind of the old man whom she had thought she knew so well. During dinner, to cover the embarra.s.sment which covered each member of the small party, Sylvan began to talk of the cadets' ball at West Point on the preceding evening; the distinguished men who were present, the pretty girls with whom he had danced, the best waltzers, and so forth, and then the mischievous scamp added:

"But there wasn't a brunette present as handsome as my sister Cora, nor a blonde as beautiful as my own grandmamma-elect."

When they all left the table, Mrs. Stillwater went to her room, and Mr.

Rockharrt took occasion to say:

"I wish you both to understand the programme for to-morrow. There is to be no fuss, no wedding breakfast, no nonsense whatever."

Sylvan thought to himself that the marriage alone was nonsense enough to stand by itself, like a velvet dress, which is spoiled by additions; but he said nothing. Mr. Rockharrt, standing on the rug with his back to the mantlepiece and his hands clasped behind him, continued:

"Sylvan, you will wear a morning suit; Cora, you will wear a visiting costume, just what you would wear to an ordinary church service. Rose will be married in her traveling dress. Immediately after the ceremony we, myself and wife, shall enter a carriage and drive to the railway depot and take the train for Niagara. You two can return here or go to Rockhold or wherever you will. We shall make a short tour of the Falls, lakes, St. Lawrence River, and so on, and probably return to Rockhold by the first of July. I cannot remain long from the works while Fabian is away. Now, am I clearly understood?"

"Very clearly, sir," replied Sylvan, speaking for himself and sister.

"Then, good night; I am going to bed," said the Iron King, and without waiting for a response, he strode out of the room.

"Who ever heard of a man dictating to a woman what she shall wear?"

exclaimed Cora.

Sylvan laughed.

"Why, the King of the c.u.mberland mines would dictate when you should rise from your seat and walk across the room; when you should sit down again; when you should look out of the window, and every movement of your life, if it were not too much trouble. Good night, Cora."

The brother and sister shook hands and parted for the night, each going to his or her respective apartment. Early the next morning the little party met at breakfast. The Iron King looked sullen and defiant, as if he were challenging the whole world to find any objection to his remarkable marriage at their peril. Mrs. Stillwater, in a pretty morning robe of pale blue sarcenet, made very plainly, looked shy, humble, and deprecating, as if begging from all present a charitable construction of her motives and actions. Cora Rothsay looked calm and cold in her usual widow's dress and cap.

Sylvan seemed the only cheerful member of the party, and tried to make conversation out of such trifles as the bill of fare furnished. All were relieved when the party separated and went to their rooms to dress for church. At eleven o'clock they rea.s.sembled in the parlor. Mr. Rockharrt wore a new morning suit. He might have been going down to Wall Street instead of to his own wedding. Rose Stillwater wore a navy blue, l.u.s.terless silk traveling dress, with hat, veil and gloves to match, all very plain, but extremely becoming to her fresh complexion and ruddy hair. Cora wore her widow's dress of l.u.s.terless black silk with mantle, bonnet, veil and gloves to match. Sylvan, like his grandfather, wore a plain morning suit.

"Well, are you all ready?" demanded old Aaron, looking critically upon the party.

"All ready, sir," chirped Sylvan for the others.

"Come, then."

And the aged bridegroom drew the arm of his bride-elect within his own and led the way down stairs and out to the handsome carriage that stood waiting.

He handed her in, put her on the back seat and placed himself beside her.

Sylvan helped his sister into the carriage and followed her. They seated themselves on the front seat opposite the bridal pair.

And the carriage drove off.

"Oh!" suddenly exclaimed old Aaron Rockharrt, rummaging in the breast pocket of his coat and drawing thence a white envelope and handing it to Sylvan; "here, take this and give it to the minister as soon as we come before him."

The young man received the packet and looked inquiringly at the elder.

It was really the marriage fee for the officiating clergyman, and a very ostentatious one also; but the Iron King did not condescend to explain anything. He had given it to his grandson with his orders, which he expected to be implicitly obeyed without question. They reached the church, the same church in which they had heard the dean preach on the previous Sunday. They alighted from the carriage and entered the building, old Aaron Rockharrt leading the way with his bride-elect on his arm, Sylvan and Cora following. The church was vacant of all except the minister, who stood in his surplice behind the chancel railing, and the s.e.xton who had opened the door for the party, and was now walking before them up the aisle.

The church was empty, because this, though the wedding of a millionaire, was one of which it might be said that there was "No feast, no cake, no cards, no nothing."

The party reached the altar railing, bowed silently to the minister, who nodded gravely in return, and then formed before the altar--the venerable bridegroom and beautiful bride in the center, Sylvan on the right of the groom, Cora on the left of the bride. The young man performed the mission with which he had been intrusted, and then the ceremony was commenced. It went on smoothly enough until the minister in its proper place asked the question:

"Who giveth this woman to be married to this man?"

There was an awful pause.

No one had thought of the necessity of having a "church father" to give away the bride.

The officiating clergyman saw the dilemma at a glance, and quietly beckoned the gray-haired s.e.xton to come up and act as a subst.i.tute. But Sylvan Haught, with a twinkle of fun in his eyes, turned his head and whispered to the new comer:

"'After me is manners of you.'"