In short, all went as merrily as it should, save that the bride's mother
seemed depressed and wept a little.
This, said her sister to someone in a loud voice, was in her opinion
nothing short of wicked. What business, she asked, has a woman with
six portionless daughters to cry because one of them is making a good
marriage; "though it is true," she added, dropping her voice to a
confidential whisper, "that had Barbara chosen she might have made a
better one. Yes, I don't mind telling you that she might have been a
peeress, instead of the wife of a mere country squire."
In truth, Mrs. Walrond was ill at ease about this marriage, why she
did not know. Something in her heart seemed to tell her that her dear
daughter's happiness would not be of long continuance. Bearing in mind
his family history, she feared for Anthony's health; indeed, she feared
a hundred things that she was quite unable to define. However, at the
little breakfast which followed she seemed quite to recover her spirits
and laughed as merrily as anyone at the speech which Lady Thompson
insisted upon making, in which she described Barbara as "her darling,
beautiful and most accomplished niece, who indeed was almost her
daughter.
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