exact
paraphernalia of a fashionable wedding to accomplish. Rose was
wanted everywhere. She had suddenly become the most important
person in her little world. Her tastes and inclinations settled all
disputed points; and perpetual offerings, of many kinds, were made
to her.

Indeed, each day brought her some token of remembrance or congratulation
from relatives and acquaintances; and Antony's gifts realized all of
even Rose's exacting ideas concerning the proper evidences of love.
Certainly, if jewels could typify affection, Antony's must have been
very great; for when at length the bridal satin and lace were
assumed, her favorite gems fastened its veil, and glittered in her ears,
and sparkled round her throat, and clasped her snowy belt. There was a
crowded church to witness the wedding, and the atmosphere was sensitive
with interest and pleasure, with the odors of flowers, and the
bright reverberations of joyful music. Antony, also, on this occasion,
was singularly handsome--as a man ought to be on his wedding day; he
walked as if he were all spirit, and too happy for words. And yet many
remarked his emphatic speech in the bridal ceremony; his serious
assumption of all it demanded; and the proud tenderness with which
at its close he turned to Rose and said, "My wife!"

So the affair was handsomely and happily over, and Peter Van
Hoosen--who stood by his son's side--admitted that it was "a very
pretty spectacle." And yet, even while it was in progress, his memory
had gone back with a graver pleasure to his own marriage with Antony's
mother. He remembered her as young and as fair as Adriana, standing
in her gown of white muslin, with no ornaments but the white roses in
her hair and the pretty Bible in her hand. Loving and proud as Antony
was that day, he had been equally so; and the bare kirk, and the
solemn charge of the minister, and the kindly smiles of the friends
who stood by them, seemed even at this hour just the kind of marriage
he would prefer, if he were a young man again with Antony's mother
beside him.

There was a grand wedding breakfast, at which Miss Alida took a
prominent part; and then the young couple went off to sea together;
and the company sighed and departed; and when the sun set, the bridal
day was quite over. Mr. and Mrs. Filmer sat talking, a little sad, and
yet gratefully satisfied. Harry was with Miss Alida and Adriana, and
disposed to talk of his own marriage. Nobody wanted dinner; they h