n was by no means
exploded; matter-of-fact squires knelt like romantic knights; Sir
Charles Grandison and Sir Roger de Coverley bent as low for their own
purposes as fantastic gauze and tinsel troubadours.

But Mistress Betty prevented him. "I am not worth it, Master Rowland,"
cried Mistress Betty, sobbing and covering her face with her hands; and,
as she could not have seen the obeisance, the gentleman intermitted it,
pulled down the hands, kissed Madam Betty oftener than the one fair
salute, and handed her across the room to receive Granny's blessing.
Granny sat up and composed herself, wished them joy (though she had the
grace to look a little ashamed of herself), very much as if she had
obtained her end.

There is no use in denying that young madam took to bed for three days,
and was very pettish for a fortnight; but eventually gave in to the
match, and was not so much afflicted by it as she had expected, after
the first brunt. Granny, in her age, was so absurdly set on the
_mesalliance_, and so obliging and pleasant about everything else--the
Vicar and the little lasses were so provokingly careless of the wrong
done them and the injury to the family,--that she knew very well, when
her back was turned, they formed as nonsensically hilarious a bridal
party as if the wedding had concerned one of themselves and not the
bachelor uncle, the squire of Larks' Hall. And Mistress Betty ordered
down the smartest livery; and the highest gentry in Somersetshire would
have consented to grace the ceremony, had she cared for their presence,
such a prize was she in their country-houses when they could procure her
countenance during their brief sojourn among sparkling rills and
woodland shades. Altogether, young madam, in spite of her vanities and
humours, loved the children, the Vicar, Granny, the bridegroom, and even
(with a grudge) the bride, and was affected by the sweet summer season
and the happy marriage-tide, and was, in the main, too good to prove a
kill-joy.

Master Rowland and Mistress Betty were married by Master Rowland's own
brother in the Vicar's own church, with Fiddy and Prissy and the Sedleys
for bridesmaids, and Dick Ashbridge for a groom's-man. Cousin Ward,
brought all the way from town to represent the bride's relations, was
crying as if she were about to lose an only daughter. For Granny, she
would not shed one bright, crystal tear on any account; besides, she was
ever in state at Larks' Hall to welcome home