"Mamma, I am causing you unnecessary pain; pray forgive me. I cannot help it; I shall miss you so much."

"No, darling," said the mother, with a smile, as she wiped the tears which she tried to restrain; "you belong to your husband now; he will more than supply my place to you; besides, we shall not be so very far away from each other after all, and Martha will take care of me."

"That I will Miss--Ma'am, I beg your pardon," and the faithful old servant entered hastily as she spoke; "They are calling out for you, Mrs. Halford; the carriage is waiting."

"Once more, darling mother, good-by," said the young bride, who had started with a smile at the matronly t.i.tle; and after one more kiss and fond embrace, the mother and daughter descended the stairs together.

Mrs. Armstrong had nerved herself to witness her child's departure.

One more ordeal awaited Mary.

After kisses and farewells from the bridesmaids, and more formal adieus to the visitors, Mary turned to her father. Mr. Armstrong clasped his daughter to his heart, and as he fondly kissed her, whispered, "Forgive me, darling, for all the sorrow I have caused you." Controlling her emotion, she playfully placed her gloved hand on his lips, and exclaimed, "Hush, papa, it has made my happiness all the greater."

In a few moments the lawn beneath the lime trees was glittering with tarlatan, lace, and ribbons, as the juvenile portion of the company followed Mary and her husband to the gate. At length, after one last kiss had been given to the bride, to be succeeded by another, the rector of Briarsleigh's carriage drove off amid a shower of old slippers, only one of which reached its destination.

That evening, when alone, and reflecting on the events of the day, Edward Armstrong discovered that with all his self-confidence in his own superior judgment, he had during his life made more than one mistake.

In all his successes he had forgotten G.o.d, and wors.h.i.+pped riches and position. He had despised those possessing high, n.o.ble, and intellectual qualities, because they lacked those advantages which he so highly valued.

His prejudices and his pride had made him unkind to his only daughter, and only when at last alarmed by discovering that "riches can take to themselves wings," did he allow these foolish prejudices to be set aside. To his surprise he was now obliged to admit that the honours this day conferred upon him arose from his daughter's alliance with the family he had once despised for their profession and supposed poverty.

To them he owed the presence of the bishop and the earl as his guests.

While the family he had despised had been honouring G.o.d, he had been honouring gold; and as these facts became clear to his mind, the words of a text he had read when a child at his mother's knee came back on his memory with full force--"Them that honour Me I will honour, and they that despise Me shall be lightly esteemed."

THE END