Another and another day succeeded — a week slipped
away — a second and a third followed it; and still the ranks of
the royal regiment, though they filled rapidly, had many vacancies,
and arms had yet to be provided, and standards and musicians;
messengers went and came continually between the
castle and the manor, and all was haste and confusion in the
lone glens of Wharfdale. Meantime a change was wrought in
Annabel's demeanor, and all who saw remarked it — there was
a brighter glow than ever had been seen before, in her transparent
cheeks; her eyes sparkled almost as brilliantly as Marian's;
her lips were frequently arrayed in bright and beaming
smiles; her step was light and springy as a young fawn's on
the mountain. Annabel was in love, and had discovered that
she was so — Annabel was beloved and knew it — the young
lord's declaration and the old earl's consent had come together;
and the sweet maiden's heart was given, and her hand promised,
almost before the asking. Joy! joy! was there not joy in
Ingleborough?

The good old vicar's tranquil air of satisfaction; the loud and
eloquent mirth of his kind-hearted housewife — the merry, gay

[figure description] Page 059.[end figure description]

congratulations of wild Marian, who wrote from York, half
crazy with excitement and delight — the evident and lovely
happiness of the young promised bride — what pen of man may
even aspire to write them. All was decided — all arranged —
the marriage was, so far, at least, to be held private, that no festivities
or public merriment should bruit it to the world, until the
civil strife should be decided, and the king's power established;
which all men fancied, at that day, it would be by a single battle—
and which, had Rupert wheeled upon the flank of Essex
at Edge-Hill, instead of chasing the discomfited and flying horse
of the Roundheads, miles from the field of battle, would probably
have been the case.

The old earl had sent the wedding gifts to his son's chosen
bride, had promised to be present at the nuptials, the day of
which was fixed already; but it had been decided that when
De Vaux should be forced to join the royal armies his young
wife should continue to reside at Ingleborough, with her bereaved
mother and fond sister, until the wished-for peace should
unite England once again in bonds of general amnity; and the
bridegroom find honorable leisure to lead his wife in state to
his paternal mansions.

Days sped away — how fast they seemed to fly to those happy
young lovers! How was the very hour of their first interview
noted, and marked with white in the deep tablets of their
minds — how did they shyly, yet fondly recount each to the
other the first impressions of their growing fondness — how did
they bless the cause that brought them thus together. Proh
cœca mens mortalium! — oh! the short-sighted scope of mortal
vision! alas! for one — for both!

The wedding day was fixed, and now was fast approaching;
and hourly was Marian, with their good uncle and his dame,
expected at the hall, and wished for, and discoursed of by the
lovers — “and oh!” — would Annabel say, half-sportively, and

[figure description] Page 060.[end figure description]

half in earnest — “well was it for my happiness, De Vaux, that
she was absent when you first came hither, for had you seen
her first, her far superior beauty, her bright wild radiant face,
her rare arch naïveté, her flashing wit, and beautiful enthusiasm
would — must have captivated you all at once — and what had
then become of your poor Annabel?”

And then would the young lord vow — that had he met her
first in the most glorious courts of Europe, with all the gorgeous
beauties of the world to rival her, she would alone have
been the choice of his soul — his soul, first touched by her, of
woman! And then he would ask in lowered tones, and with a
sly simplicity of manner, whether, if he had loved another, she
could have still loved him; to which, with all the frank and
fearless purity that was so beautiful a trait in Annabel — “Oh
yes —” she would reply, and gaze with calm reliance, as she
did so, into her lover's eyes — “oh yes, dear Ernest — and then
how miserably wretched must I have been through my whole
life hereafter. Oh! yes, I loved you — though then I knew it
not, nor indeed thought at all about it, until you spoke to me —
I loved you dearly! — and I believe it would almost have
killed me to look upon you afterward as the wife of another.”

The wedding day was but a fortnight distant; and strange to
say it was the very day, two months gone, which had seen
their meeting. Wains had arrived from Gilsland, loaded with
arms and uniforms, standards and ammunitions; two brothers
of young De Vaux, young gallant cavaliers, had come, partly to
officer the men, partly to do fit honor to their brother's nuptials.

The day, although the season had now advanced far into
brown October was sunny, mild, and beautiful; the regiment
had, for the first time, mustered in arms in Ingleborough park,
and a gay show they made, with their glittering casques and
corslets, fresh from the armorer's anvil, and their fluttering
scarfs, and dancing plumes, and bright emblazoned banners.

[figure description] Page 061.[end figure description]