The ceremony was performed by Doctor Saunders, the venerable vicar of
St. Martin's, who, at the conclusion of the ceremony, declared that he
had never before performed the office for so young a bride. The clerk
officiated as father; my mother and the woman who opened the pews were
the only witnesses to the union. I was dressed in the habit of a
Quaker,--a society to which, in early youth, I was particularly partial.
From the church we repaired to the house of a female friend, where a
splendid breakfast was waiting; I changed my dress to one of white
muslin, a chip hat adorned with white ribbons, a white sarsnet
scarf-cloak, and slippers of white satin embroidered with silver. I
mention these trifling circumstances because they lead to some others of
more importance.

From the house of my mother's friend we set out for the inn at
Maidenhead Bridge, Mr. Robinson and myself in a phaeton, my mother in a
post-chaise; we were also accompanied by a gentleman by the name of
Balack, a very intimate acquaintance and schoolfellow of my husband, who
was not apprised of our wedding, but who nevertheless considered Mr.
Robinson as my avowed suitor.

On his first seeing me, he remarked that I was "dressed like a bride."
The observation overwhelmed me with confusion. During the day I was more
than pensive,--I was melancholy; I considered all that had passed as a
vision, and would scarcely persuade myself that the union which I had
permitted to be solemnised was indissoluble. My mother frequently
remarked my evident chagrin; and in the evening, while we strolled
together in the garden which was opposite the inn, I told her, with a
torrent of tears, the vouchers of my sincerity, that I was the most
wretched of mortals! that I felt the most perfect esteem for Mr.
Robinson, but that, according to my ideas of domestic happiness, there