series of yells, which reminded me of a set of savages. But even this
delicate method of consolation failed, and the wishing good-bye began. It
was altogether so melancholy an affair that Madame B. dropped a few
tears, and I was very near it, particularly when the poor mother came out
to see the last of her daughter, who was finally dragged off between her
brother and uncle, with a last explosion of pistols. As she lives quite
near, makes an excellent match, and is one of nine children, it really
was a most desirable marriage, in spite of all the show of distress.
Albert was so discomfited by it, that he forgot to kiss the bride as he
had intended to do, and therefore went to call upon her yesterday, and
found her very smiling in her new house, and supplied the omission. The
cook came home from the wedding, declaring she was cured of any wish to
marry--but I would not recommend any man to act upon that threat and make
her an offer. In a couple of days we had some rolls of the bride's first
baking, which they call Madonnas. The musicians, it seems, were in the
same state as the bridegroom, for, in escorting her home, they all fell
down in the mud. My wrath against the bridegroom is somewhat calmed by
finding that it is considered bad luck if he does not get tipsy at his
wedding."

* * * * *

Those readers of Miss Procter's poems who should suppose from their tone
that her mind was of a gloomy or despondent cast, would be curiously
mistaken. She was exceedingly humorous, and had a great delight in
humour. Cheerfulness was habitual with her, she was very ready at a
sally or a reply, and in her laugh (as I remember well) there was an
unusual vivacity, enjoyment, and sense of drollery. She was perfectly
unconstrained and unaffected: as modestly silent about her productions,
as she was generous with their pecuniary results. She was a friend who