Chapter XI: After the Wedding

None but Jeremy and his wife ever heard particulars concerning that night, and it was only through his sister's confession to Jane that her husband learned why she did not come. Mrs. Huxam never guessed who had been waiting for Margery; indeed she did not know that anybody had waited, and felt little doubt that she had saved her child's body as well as soul. For her own part she came through the experience unhurt; but Margery suffered. Judith's excitation of mind had apparently served as armour against the inclement night and she was none the worse, while her daughter's debility and depression offered an easier prey to the cold.

Margery had been chilled and, for two days, the doctor feared. Then the immediate danger diminished, though the inherent source of mischief increased. From that night indeed it gained upon Margery and solved for her the problem of attending the wedding. She left her bed again, but could not leave the house.

Then Barlow Huxam asserted himself and insisted that the date of the wedding should be altered if Margery wished it; but she did not wish it. She knew that her chances of taking any part in the day were over. It was understood that Avis and Robert would spend five minutes with her, on their way to the station after they were married, and the wedding meal at Red House had been taken.

To this entertainment more were bidden than cared to come; but the Elvins and Robert's friends sufficed to brighten the feast that Jacob had planned. For him the knowledge that Margery was too unwell to attend the service robbed the day of its sole salt; but he went through with the business and carried himself cheerfully.

There came Robert's mother and various relations, William Marydrew and others, including John Henry from Bullstone; but while the Huxams attended the service, they did not, of course, proceed to the bridal breakfast, nor were they troubled to decline, for Jacob knew it was impossible to invite them. He ventured to ask the Winters, however, and Adam was minded to go, but his aunt refused and prevented him from doing so.

"There's some things that are seemly and some that are not, and women are generally more understanding to know one from t'other than men," she said. "Your judgment tells you that you and poor Margery can't well meet no more under one roof, unless it's the Lord's roof o' Sundays; but with regard to this wretched man, just because that thing happened about Samuel, you have lost sight of the truth of him and seem to reckon there's no indecency in having truck with him. It may be Christian, but it ain't manners. I've never yet felt as my Christianity comes between me and my dignity, and I'm sorry you do."

"I'll not go, then," answered her nephew. "It can make no difference to him."

Many, indeed, attended the service who had no intention of joining the subsequent gathering. Jacob gave Avis away, and Auna was her bridesmaid; while for Robert, his elder brother, home from sea for a while, acted as best man.

The Huxams sat in church together, and Auna heard from Jane, before the wedded pair set out for Red House, that Margery was not so well that day. Auna kept her bad news until all was over at home and Avis and Robert had driven off together. Then she sought Jacob who sat alone, thankful to be alone, and told him that her mother was worse. But she came to the sad matter slowly, dwelt first on all that had happened, and declared that everything had fallen out very triumphantly.

"Dear old Mr. Marydrew sat by me at the feast," said Auna, "and Mr. Middleweek sat on the other side of me, and they were both very cheerful indeed--even George, though George is no believer in marriage."

"Isn't he, Auna?"

"Oh, no. He and Billy talked about it, and Billy says there's more happy marriages than not; and George said the happy ones be like a corncrake in the hayfield--oftener heard of than seen. And he said that marriage was like living in a shop all the time--buying, or selling--haggling and trying to get a cheap bargain on one side and holding out for the price on the other. But I'm sure George don't mean all the acid things he says about people marrying. And Mr. Marydrew talked very hopefully of the next world, and says he'll be a farmer up there and begin all over again. But he much hopes the Happy Land won't want such a lot of muck spread on it as Dartmoor does."

Jacob smiled, while she chattered; then she came to the bad news gently.

"I hope that mother will be strong enough to have a little tell with Avis and Bob before they start," she said; "but I'm terrible sorry to say dear mother ain't very peart this morning. Aunt Jane told me about it after Avis was married. I talked to her and Uncle Jeremy in the churchyard, and they both said it was a very beautiful wedding in their opinion, and Avis never looked so fine. But mother's gone weak. There ain't no nature in her."

He sighed.

"You'd best to go in first thing to-morrow. And we'll send her some goats' milk again. It did her good last summer. I made her drink some red wine, once, when she got too thin years ago. Burgundy it is called. I'll see the doctor about her. He doesn't like me; but he won't fear to name wine for her if he thinks it would be a right thing."

"Grandmother wouldn't suffer mother to drink wine, father."

"As medicine she would."

"So she would then," agreed Auna. "Medicine can't be wicked. And Jesus Christ turned water into wine for happy people at a wedding, so why shouldn't unhappy people be allowed a drop? I asked grandmother that once, and she looked at me unkindly. She doesn't like me very much."

"Because you haven't thrown me over, Auna."

"Throw you over!" exclaimed the girl. "What would there be left if I hadn't got you? There's nobody else in the world, till mother comes home again; and sometimes I think she never will, father."

"But sometimes you think that she's going to? You hope still, don't you?"

She saw how eager he was and regretted her speech.

"Yes, I do sometimes. I believe, if we could take her a pair of wings and tell her to fly, she would fly. And she'd fly straight to Red House I expect. She don't like the post-office, and she don't even like grandfather's new house overmuch I'm afraid."

"I'd be the wings to help her fly, Auna, if I could. She should fly quick enough if I thought she wanted to fly--aye, though I had to break down her father's walls to let her out."

Auna was struck dumb by the vision.

"I wish I could see her alone, but 'tis harder and harder to do now she mostly keeps her room. A girl ought to be able to see her mother alone at my age; but grandmother don't make me welcome now, and she hustles me off for one thing and another."

"She thinks evil--that's why. She thinks you are on my side against her, Auna."

"If she's against you, then I'm against her. I've stopped loving her this good while now, because she won't let me talk about you to mother. And I can see in mother's eyes that she's wishful to hear. And it's cruel I can't tell her about things."

Jacob considered and weighed the gravity of the situation. There was still no link between himself and his wife but such as Auna could furnish.

And as Bullstone reflected, Avis and her husband came before Margery at the post-office.

She was in bed to-day, but she sat up while the pair stood beside her. They were going to Exeter for a week of honeymoon, and Avis promised to see the cathedral and listen to an anthem.

"There's no Chosen Few in Exeter, so far as grandmother knows," said Robert's bride; "but she thinks there will be no harm if we worship in the cathedral o' Sunday. And we're going to the Museum also."

"Now tell me about the wedding. Did Bob speak out brave and clear, Avis?"

"Yes he did then--so loud that one or two in the church tittered--so Auna told us after. And I spoke out loud too. And grandfather and father signed the book in the vestry; and pretty near everybody waited to see me and Robert march out. And there was a lot of rice flung at me in the churchyard by old Billy Marydrew, but grandmother said he didn't ought."

"I do hope you'll soon be better," said Robert. "Mother's very wishful for you to come up to Owley in the spring time. She's dearly like for you to come, Mrs. Bullstone."

"And so would I like it, and perhaps I will, Bob," answered Margery. "Tell me more who was in the church."

"Miss Winter and Mr. Winter," began young Elvin, but Avis stopped him.

"Hush, Robert!" she said.

"No call to hush, Avis. I'm very glad they was there," declared Margery.

"They didn't come to Red House after, of course," continued Avis; "but a rally of neighbours did, and Bob's mother and his sailor brother sat by father, and Mr. Rupert Elvin, Bob's great-uncle, proposed the health of the bride."

"And Mr. Bullstone gave us a proper banquet--I never saw such a spread and never shall again I'm sure," vowed Robert.

"Father was pretty cheerful I hope?" asked Margery, and Avis looked uncomfortable.

Robert answered.

"He was, because it was kept from him and all of us that you weren't very well to-day. And he told me that he'd hoped you might be there; but no doubt the reason against was your poor state, Mrs. Bullstone."

"Hush, Robert," said Avis.

"You must call me 'mother' now, Bob," replied Margery. "You've got two mothers now; and so has Avis."

"And very gay and proud I'm sure," said Robert. "And I'll send you a bit of good foreign fruit from Exeter, mother, to cheer you up."

"Don't you waste your money, Bob."

"You know Owley's mine, now, mother?" asked Avis.

"I do, and very good news; and I hope you thanked your father for it. Very few young people get such a fine start in life. A very good father to you, my dear."

Avis did not answer, but Robert felt constrained to do so.

"So I tell her, and I hope Mr. Bullstone won't never have cause to be sorry. God willing, he never shall."

"That's right, Bob. Avis have got you to thank also."

"And John Henry feels that, if I have Owley, he ought to have Bullstone," added Avis.

"All in good time I expect. Father will do fair and right by every one."

They talked a little longer, then Mrs. Huxam appeared.

"'Tis time you was away," she said. "Your grandfather and I and a few more are just walking down to see the train off, and the carriage is waiting for you and the luggage is at the station. So be off in five minutes. You'll be all right, Margery? I shan't be gone very long."

She departed and soon afterwards Avis and Robert bade the invalid 'good-bye.' She kissed them, then heard laughter and cheerful words below, looked out the window and saw the carriage with two grey horses drive off. There was a white satin bow on the coachman's whip. She crept back to bed again and her heart throbbed. She had grown weaker, and she cried now, not at the emotion of the moment, but before the whole spectacle of her shattered life and maimed existence. In her present state she had ceased even to lament the failure of her last effort to return home. Now she felt that was no great matter. She was enfeebled, indifferent and had lost the will to live. But there grew in her one desire: a great wish to see her husband again and bid him farewell. None would help her on her side; but if he received a direct message from her, it was certain that Jacob would come.

She could no longer concentrate her mind for more than a few minutes at a time, and was sleeping when her mother returned to her.