Bridgend & Neath Chronicle, and County of Glamorgan Advertiser. — 1892-02-12 (Bridgend, Mid Glamorgan, Wales)

BRIDGEND.]  CHAPTER 1.-A WEDDING FIASCO.  The period at which this narrative opens was about ten years ago, and the occasion of it—the intended union of Squire Wynn of Welmore Hall, with Miss Ellen Terrace, the dau.hter of a deceased Indian cDlonel, left under the chaperone of a maiden aunt, and residing, at the time, ii.. the village which gave name to the hall, or to which the latter venerable mansion transferred its own.  Let us glance backwards to that nuptial day—a day that, even, at this distant date, thrills the hearts of the simple rustics with sad and morbid recollections. It was gloomy October morning, when the bridal party was observed approaching the parish church of Welmore. The happy pair, with their friends and relatives, received the homage of the villagers (who had gone to the expense of decolatiag the quiet hamlet in the most gorgeous fashioL), with great condescension, but inward satisfaction. Dismounting, the party entered the precincts of the sacred edifice, encouraged by the hearty acclamations of the crowd. _  Ellen, the bride, however, did not present a very happy appearance on this momentous occasion. During the journey to the church she had been, as it were, lost in deep reflection and from her pale and uneasy countenance any student of Lavater would have concluded that she had the greatest antipathy to the marriage. Entering a few yards within the gate on the arm of Captain George Halcolm, the best man,' she suddenly stopped, and turning round to Arthur Wynn her future lord, she exclaimed scornfully : Thus far, and no further; I think it is high time for this farce to end.'  As no one combatted the sentiment, she again expressed herself more determinedly in the same words. At last it dawned upon Arthur that they were intended for his edification. Taking hold of her finely shaped hand, he enquired— 'My dear Ellen, what do you mean? I do not perceive, as yet, where the farce comes in.' 'lt is this wedding I call a farce,'she replied,'and I mean,' she added sarcastically,' that I have abandoned the intention, just at present, of becoming the future Mrs Wynn. However, I doubt not but that some particularly eligible yonng lady in Welmore would be only too delighted to undertake such an honour and responsibility.' And with a mocking laugh, before the party could recover from their consternation, she walked briskly from the spot. During this passionate exhibition, N'V. nn remained speechless and amazed. To be publicly rejected on the very threshold of the church, in this heartless an I cruel manner, was a terrible blow to his pride. It left him helpless—in a trance, as it were, unconscious whether the whole scene was a reality or a dream.  Halcolm attempted to alleviate his distress. Cheer up,' said he, play the man. Dash it, though,' he muttered, if she had played the same trick on me, I'd have cracked her confounded skull font.'  With a great effort Wynn recovered her scattered senses. The humiliation of such a public rejection, and the scandal it would ignite in the country. however, re-stirred his family pride, and with his features convulsing with rage, he hissed, with terrible intensity— 'By God ! I'll be revenged on that fiend before another day dawns.' And tallinz the arm of his friend,George Ha-colm, re-entered their brougham, and together rode swiftly away.  The same night Ellen Terrace was murdered on Squire Wynn's land.