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"Yes," said Lawrence.
"And the Appian Way? And the Island of Capri? And snow mountains in the distance?" she asked.
"In their turn, most certainly," said her lover, "and it shall be the midnight sun, and the Nile, if you like."
"Freddy," exclaimed the late Mrs Null, "I thank thee for what thou hast given me!" And she clasped the hand of Lawrence in both her own.
CHAPTER x.x.xII.
The marriage of Junius Keswick and Roberta March was appointed for the fifteenth of January, and Mr Brandon had arranged to be in New York a few days before the event. He intended, however, to leave Midbranch soon after the first of the year, and to spend a week with some of his friends in Richmond.
It was on the afternoon of New Year's Day, and Mr Brandon was sitting in his library with Colonel Pinckney Macon, an elderly gentleman of social habits and genial temper, whom Mr Brandon had invited to Midbranch to spend the holidays, and who was afterwards to be his travelling companion as far as Richmond. The two had had a very good dinner, and were now sitting before the fire smoking their pipes, and paying occasional attention to two tumblers of egg-nogg, which stood on a small table between them. They were telling anecdotes of olden times, and were in very good humor indeed, when a servant came in with a note, which had just been brought for Mr Brandon. The old gentleman took the missive, and put on his eye-gla.s.ses, but the moment he read the address, he let his hand fall on his knee, and gave vent to an angry e.j.a.c.u.l.a.t.i.o.n.
"It's from that rabid old witch, the Widow Keswick!" he exclaimed,"
I've a great mind to throw it into the fire without reading it."
"Don't do that," cried Colonel Macon. "It is a New Year present she is sending you. Read it, sir, read it by all means."
Mr Brandon had given his friend an account of his unexampled and astounding persecutions by the Widow Keswick, and the old colonel had been much interested thereby; and it would have greatly grieved his soul not to become acquainted with this new feature of the affair.
"Read it, sir," he cried; "I would like to know what sort of New Year congratulations she offers you."
"Congratulations indeed!" said Mr Brandon; "you needn't expect anything of that kind." But he opened the note; and, turning, so that he could get a good light upon it, began to read aloud, as follows:
"MY DEAREST ROBERT."
"Confound it, sir," exclaimed the reader, "did you ever hear of such a piece of impertinence as that?"
Colonel Pinckney Macon leaned back in his chair, and laughed aloud.
"It is impertinent," he cried, "but it's confoundedly jolly! Go on, sir. Go on, I beg of you."
Mr Brandon continued:
"It is not for me to suggest anything of the kind, but I write this note simply to ask you what you would think of a triple wedding? There would certainly be something very touching about it, and it would be very satisfactory and comforting, I am sure, to our nieces and their husbands to know that they were not leaving either of us to a lonely life. Would we not make three happy pairs, dear Robert? Remember, I do not propose this, I only lay it before your kindly and affectionate heart.
"Your own
"Martha Ann Keswick."
Colonel Macon, who, with much difficulty and redness of face, had restrained himself during the reading of this note, now burst into a shout of laughter, while Mr Brandon sprang to his feet, and crumpling the note in his hand, threw it into the fire; and then, turning around, he exclaimed: "Did the world ever hear anything like that!
Triple wedding, indeed! Does the pestiferous old shrew imagine that anything in this world would induce me to marry her?"
"Why, my dear sir," cried Colonel Macon, "of course she don't. I know the Widow Keswick as well as you do. She wouldn't marry you to save your soul, sir. All she wants to do is to worry and persecute you, and to torment your senses out of you, in revenge for your having got the better of her. Now, take my advice, sir, and don't let her do it.
"I'd like to know how I am going to hinder her," said Mr Brandon.
"Hinder her!" exclaimed Colonel Macon. "Nothing easier in this world, sir! Just you turn right square round, and face her, sir; and you'll see that she'll stop short, sir; and, what's more, she'll run, sir!"
"How am I to face her?" asked Mr Brandon. "I have faced her, and I a.s.sure you, sir, she didn't run."
"That was because you did not go to work in the right way," said the colonel. "Now, if I were in your place, sir, this is what I would do.
I'd turn on her and I'd scare her out of all the wits she has left.
I'd say to her: 'Madam, I think your proposition is an excellent one.
I am ready to marry you to-day, or, at the very latest, to-morrow morning. I'll come to your house, and bring a clergyman, and some of my friends. Don't let there be the least delay, for I desire to start immediately for New York, and to take you with me.' Now, sir, a note like that would frighten that old woman so that she would leave her house, and wouldn't come back for six weeks; and the letter you have just burned would be the last attack she would make on you. Now, sir, that is what I would do if I were in your place."
Mr Brandon sat down, drained his tumbler of egg-nogg, and began to think of what his friend had said. And, as he thought of it, the conviction forced itself upon him that this idea of Colonel Macon's was a good one; in fact, a splendid one. Now that he came to look upon the matter more clearly than he had done before, he saw that this persecution on the part of the Widow Keswick was not only base, but cowardly. He had been entirely too yielding, had given way too much.
Yes, he would face her! By George! that was a royal idea! He would turn round, and make a dash at her, and scare her out of her five senses.
Pens, ink, and paper were brought out; more egg-nogg was ordered; and Mr Brandon, aided and abetted by Colonel Macon, wrote a letter to Mrs Keswick.
This letter took a long time to write, and was very carefully constructed. With outstretched hands, Mr Brandon met the old lady on the very threshold of her proposition. He stated that nothing would please him better than an immediate wedding, and that he would have proposed it himself had he not feared that the lady would consider him too importunate. (This expression was suggested by Colonel Macon.) In order that they might lose no time in making themselves happy, Mr Brandon proposed that the marriage should take place in a week, and that the ceremony should be performed in Richmond. (The colonel wished him to say that he would immediately go to her house for the purpose, but Mr Brandon would not consent to write this. He was afraid that the widow would sit at her front door with a shot-gun and wait for him, and that some damage might thereby come to an unwary neighbor.) Each of them had many old friends in Richmond, and it would be very pleasant to be married there. He intended to start for that city in a day or two, and he would be rejoiced to meet her at eleven o'clock on the morning of the fifth instant, in the corridor, or covered bridge, connecting the Exchange and Ballard hotels, and there arrange all the details for an immediate marriage. The letter closed with an earnest hope that she would accede to this proposed plan, which would so soon make them the happiest couple upon earth; and was signed "Your devoted Robert."
"By which I mean," said Mr Brandon, "that I am devoted to her destruction."
The letter was read over by Colonel Macon, and highly approved by him.
"If you had met that woman, sir, when she first came to you," he said to Mr Brandon, "with the spirit that is shown in this letter, you would have put a s.h.i.+ver through her, sir, that would have shaken the bones out of her umbrella, and she would have cut and run, sir, before you knew it."
The messenger from Howlett's was kept at Midbranch all night, and the next morning he was sent back with Mr Brandon's note. Two days afterward Colonel Macon and Mr Brandon started for Richmond, and in the course of a few hours, they were comfortably sipping their "peach and honey" at the Exchange and Ballard's.
The next day was most enjoyably spent with a number of old friends; and in reminiscences of the past war, and in discussions of the coming political campaign, Mr Brandon had thrown off every sign of the annoyance and persecution to which he had lately been subjected.
"By George, sir!" said Colonel Macon to him the next morning, "do you know that you are a most untrustworthy and perfidious man?"
"Sir!" exclaimed Mr Brandon, "what do you mean?"
"I mean," replied Colonel Pinckney Macon, with much dignity, "that you promised at eleven o'clock to-day to meet a lady in the corridor connecting these two hotels. It wants three minutes of that time now, sir, and here you are reading the 'Dispatch' as if you never made a promise in your life."
"I declare," said Mr Brandon, rising, "my conduct is indefensible, but I am going to my room, and, on my way, will keep my part of the contract."
"I will go with you," said the colonel.
Together they mounted the stairs, and approached the corridor; and, as they opened its gla.s.s doors, they saw, sitting in a chair on one side of the pa.s.sage, the Widow Keswick.
If Mr Brandon had not been caught by his friend he would have fallen over backwards. Regaining an upright position, he made a frantic turn, as if he would fly, but he was not quick enough; Mrs Keswick had him by the arm.
"Robert!" she exclaimed. "I knew how true and faithful you would be.
It has just struck eleven. How do you do, Colonel Macon?" And she extended her hand.
There was no one in the corridor at the time but these three, but the place was much used as a pa.s.sageway, and Colonel Macon, who was very pale, but still retained his presence of mind, knew well, that if any one were to come along at this moment, it would be decidedly unpleasant, not only for his friend, but himself. "I am glad to meet you again, Mrs Keswick," he said. "Let us go into one of the parlors.
It will be more comfortable."
"How kind," murmured Mrs Keswick, as she clung to the arm of Mr Brandon, "for you to bring our good friend, Colonel Macon."
They went into a parlor, which was empty, and where they were not likely to be disturbed. Mr Brandon walked there without saying a word.
His face was as pallid as its well-seasoned color would allow, and he looked straight before him with an air which seemed to indicate that he was trying to remember something terrible, or else trying to forget it, and that he himself did not know which it was.