A NOVEL. "Lorsque vous peignez les hommes, il faut peindre d'après nature; ɔn IN TWO VOLUMES. VOL. I. DOM: IMINA STIO LONDON: HURST AND BLACKETT, PUBLISHERS, 13, GREAT MARLBOROUGH STREET. TRUE TO NATURE. CHAPTER I. THE BRIDAL. It was the wedding-day of Margaret Montagu, on a May morning in the year 184—. A bright sunshine lit up the trim gardens of Beaulieu Court, and sparkled on the fresh leaves of the tall lime trees, which formed an avenue to the stately old house. The shadow on the face of a moss-grown sundial that stood in the middle of the smoothshaven lawn, marked the hour of ten. VOL. I. B Merston village bells rang merrily in honour of the wedding, and a crowd of people in their best clothes had assembled in the little green churchyard, for the Montagus were beloved in all the country round, and the marriage of Margaret, the eldest daughter of the house, made a great sensation. The bride sat patiently before her tall mirror, allowing herself to be decked out and adorned by an attendant Abigail, and her pretty bridesmaid cousin, Susan Fanshawe. Her maid had already arranged the light folds of Margaret's veil, and the wreath of orange flowers in her dark hair, when Lady Selwyn, her younger and married sister, entered the room. "Oh, dear Margaret! that wreath will not do. It is too forward on the forehead: no one wears it so now. Mason," to the maid, "you must let me arrange it." Only let me be dressed in time, Frances," said Margaret, with a patient smile; "you know that I have a good character with my father for punctuality, and I must not lose it on my wedding day." "If you will believe me, Margaret," said Lady Selwyn, archly, as she kissed her sister's forehead, "your character depends much more on being properly dressed than on any oldmaidish punctuality." "But Mr. Charlton thinks punctuality one of the greatest virtues," replied Margaret. Margaret, I am shocked at your quoting Mr. Charlton before you are married! You must not give in to his whims-I shall take care to keep him waiting half-an-hour when I go to dine with you. The first duty of a wife is to teach her husband patience." Lady Selwyn's sallies had the desired effect of making her sister smile, but the smile was quickly followed by a sigh, as Margaret murmured, "Oh! Frances, how can I ever leave our mother?” You will, indeed, be a terrible loss, love," |
