# Marriage (Ferrier)/Chapter III

"They were in sooth a most enchanting train;  . . skilful to unite  With evil good, and strew with pleasure pain."
 Castle of Indolence.
IN writing to her maternal friend Mary did not follow the mode usually adopted by young ladies of the heroic cast, viz. that of giving a minute and circumstantial detail of their own complete wretchedness, and abusing, in terms highly sentimental, every member of the family with whom they are associated. Mary knew that to breathe a hint of her own unhappiness would be to embitter the peace of those she loved; and she therefore strove to conceal from their observation the disappointment she had experienced. Many a sigh was heaved, however, and many a tear was wiped away ere a letter could be composed that would carry pleasure to the dear group at Glenfern. She could say nothing of her mother's tenderness or her sister's affection, but she dwelt upon the elegance of the one and the beauty of the other. She could not boast of the warmth of her uncle's reception, but she praised his good-humour, and enlarged upon Lady Emily's kindness and attention. Even Dr. Redgill's admiration of Scotch breakfasts was given as a bonne bouche for her good old aunts.
"I declare," said Miss Grizzy, as she ended her fifth perusal of the letter, "Mary must be a happy creature, everybody must allow; indeed I never heard it disputed that Lady Juliana is a most elegant being; and I daresay she is greatly improved since we saw her, for you know that is a long time ago."
"The mind may improve after a certain age," replied Jacky, with one of her wisest looks, "but I doubt very much if the person does."
"If the inside had been like the out, there would have been no need for improvement," observed Nicky.
"I'm sure you are both perfectly right," resumed the sapient Grizzy, "and I have not the least doubt but that our dear niece is a great deal wiser than when we knew her; nobody can deny but she is a great deal older; and you know people always grow wiser as they grow older, of course."
"They ought to do it," said Jacky, with emphasis.
"But there's no fool like an old fool," quoth Nicky.
"What a delightful creature our charming niece Adelaide must be, from Mary's account," said Grizzy; "only I can't conceive how her eyes come to be black. I'm sure there's not a black eye amongst us. The Kilnacroish family are black, to be sure; and Kilnacroish's great-grandmother was first cousin, once removed, to our grandfather's aunt, by our mother's side. It's wonderful the length that resemblances run in some old families; and I really can't account for our niece Adelaide's black eyes naturally any other way than just through the Kilnacroish family; for I'm quite convinced it's from us she takes them,—children always take their eyes from their father's side; everybody knows that Becky's, and Bella's, and Baby's are all as like their poor father's as they can stare."
"There's no accounting for the varieties of the human species," said Jacky.
"And like's an ill mark," observed Nicky.
"And only think of her being so much taller than Mary, and twins! I declare it's wonderful—I should have thought, indeed I never doubted, that they would have been exactly the same size. And such a beautiful colour too, when we used to think Mary rather pale; it's very unaccountable!"
"You forget," said Jacky, who had not forgot the insult offered to her nursing system eighteen years before; "you forget that I always predicted what would happen."
"I never knew any good come of change," said Nicky.
"I'm sure that's very true," rejoined Grizzy; "and we have great reason to thank our stars that Mary is not a perfect dwarf; which I really thought she would have been for long, till she took a shooting,—summer was a year."
"But she'll shoot no more," said Jacky, with a shake of the head that might have vied with Jove's imperial nod; "England's not the place for shooting."
"The Englishwomen are all poor droichs," said Nicky, who had seen three in the course of her life.
"It's a great matter to us all, however, and to herself too, poor thing, that Mary should be so happy," resumed Grizzy. "I'm sure I don't know what she would have done if Lord Courtland had been an ill-tempered harsh man, which, you know, he might just as easily have been; and it would really have been very hard upon poor Mary—and Lady Emily such a sweet creature too! I'm sure we must all allow we have the greatest reason to be thankful."
"I don't know," said Jacky; "Mary was petted enough before, I wish she may have a head to stand any more."
"She'll be ten times nicer than ever," quoth Nicky.
"There is some reason, to be sure, that can't be denied, to be afraid of that; at the same time, Mary has a great deal of sense of her own when she chooses; and it's a great matter for her, and indeed for all of us, that she is under the eye of such a sensible worthy man as that Dr. Redgill. Of course we may be sure Lord Courtland will keep a most elegant table, and have a great variety of sweet things, which are certainly very tempting for young people; but I have no doubt but Dr. Redgill will look after Mary, and see that she doesn't eat too many of them."
"Dr. Redgill must be a very superior man," pronounced Jacky, in her most magisterial manner.
"If I could hear of a private opportunity," exclaimed Nicky, in a transport of generosity, "I would send him one of our hams, and a nice little pig of butter—the English are all great people for butter."
The proposal was hailed with rapture by both sisters in a breath; and it was finally settled that to those tender pledges of Nicky's, Grizzy should add a box of Lady Maclaughlan's latest invented pills, while Miss Jacky was to compose the epistle that was to accompany them.
The younger set of aunts were astonished that Mary had said nothing about lovers and offers of marriage, as they had always considered going to England as synonymous with going to be married.
To Mrs. Douglas's more discerning eye, Mary's happiness did not appear in so dazzling a light as to the weaker optics of her aunts.
"It is not like my Mary," thought she, "to rest so much on mere external advantages; surely her warm affectionate heart cannot be satisfied with the grace of a mother and the beauty of a sister. These she might admire in a stranger; but where we seek for happiness we better prize more homely attributes. Yet Mary is so open and confiding, I think she could not have concealed from me had she experienced a disappointment."
Mrs. Douglas was not aware of the effect of her own practical lessons; and that, while she was almost unconsciously practising the quiet virtues of patience, and fortitude, and self-denial, and unostentatiously sacrificing her own wishes to promote the comfort of others, her example, like a kindly dew, was shedding its silent influence on the embryo blossoms of her pupil's heart.

## Footnotes

* ↑ Jar.