later. For this the Morning Post was responsible, and the illumination was the following:—
"A marriage has been arranged and will shortly take place between the Marquis of Craigenputtock, eldest son of the Duke and Duchess of Dumbarton, and the Lady Adela Rocklaw, youngest daughter of the Earl of Warlock, K. C. M. G."
Everything for the best in the best of all possible worlds, you see. Father and Mother rejoiced, of course, at this cheering announcement; yet they did not seem exactly to overflow with joy when they called to convey their felicitations to dear Adela and her papa. But more than ever now were they inclined to doubt the bona fides of the latter in respect of the brave face he had put on their common misfortune.
Still, most warmly and affectionately did they congratulate Dumbarton's future duchess, whom they had the signal good fortune to find in black velvet with the Himalayan Dust Spaniel reclining at her feet.
The Happy Young Man, twenty-two years of age and rather fine drawn, was handing tea-cake. Pa had rather a twinkle in his eye—Pa had no right to let it be seen, though—when he presented the young fellow to Mother and Father; and Mother and Father congratulated him with the greatest warmth and spontaneity.
