52
THE SEMI-ATTACHED COUPLE
So to the wedding she went, and this is her description of it.
"My dear Sister,
"You will expect to have some account of the Eskdale wedding, so I may as well write to-night, though I am completely knocked up. You know what a wretched sleeper I am, and of course I could not close my eyes till five, from feeling that I was to be called an hour earlier than usual; and then, what with breakfasting in a hurry, and dressing, and fancying we were too late, I was quite ill by the time we arrived at the Castle. Eliza was to be one of the bridesmaids, and Lady Eskdale gave her her dress. I must own I thought it a shabby present; but as Eliza was pleased, of course I did not say so. When we arrived at the Castle, there was poor Lady Eskdale looking ninety at least, though Mr. Douglas will not see how old she is grown, and the tears rolling down her cheeks, while she kept saying, 'We are to have no crying, that is all settled, and no melancholy leave-takings on account of poor dear Helen; we are none of us to shed a tear.' I am the worst person in the world, you know, to enter into these prettinesses. I could only say, 'There was no use in crying,' or some platitude of that sort, for sentiment bores me. Lady Amelia stayed with Helen till almost the last moment, and then came and made the sort of fuss with her mother which all that family make with each other. Amelia's beauty is one of those delusions I have never given into. Large eyes and dark eyebrows, and a great display of hair—I presume it is all her own—and a way of playing her features about as if she were more intelligent than other people. It may be natural, but it looks like affectation. We all went in solemn procession to the chapel, through rows of servants. What the expense of that establishment must be I cannot imagine, nor how the
