breathed over the gay assemblage like a sacred incense. At eleven o'clock
there was a general hush of expectation; and presently the door at the
bottom of the hall was thrown open, and the bridal procession came in.
Very pretty they looked as they paced, up the long stretch of carpeting
which had been laid down for them to walk upon, and which had been
scattered over with a profusion of flowers. The bride, with her veil and
her orange-blossoms, was supported on the arm of Sir Henry Rollinson (the
good Doctor had been knighted the year before by an appreciative
sovereign), who was to give her away. She looked calm, pale, and
exceedingly handsome. The widow of Colonel Battledown was escorted by Lord
Epsom, the Honorable Richard's elder brother, and wore a very splendid
pink turban, and red eyes. But all these details, and many more, may be
read in the _Morning Post_ of March 7th, 1821, to which I refer the
curious.

The service commenced. As Sir Henry Rollinson was in the act of giving the
bride away, he happened to glance at Archibald, and observed that the
latter wore a very strange expression on his face; and a moment afterward
the young man dropped into a chair that happened to be near him, pressing
his head between his hands, and breathing heavily. No one else noticed
this incident; and Sir Henry, who supposed the youth was going to faint,
was of course unable at the time to afford any assistance. The service
went on. Richard Pennroyal and Catherine Battledown were pronounced man
and wife; and man was warned not to put asunder those whom God had joined
together. The ring shone on the new-made wife's finger. The very reverend
dean gave the pair his blessing. All this time Archibald remained with
his head between his hands, the physician watching him not without
apprehensions, and inwardly cursing the folly of those who were
responsible for the poor half-witted creature's appearance in such a
scene.