Strengthened by these reflections, Mabel resolved, before God, never to abjure her faith, and never to wed one whom she could not love or revere.
The weeks passed slowly on, and nothing more was said to Mabel on the subject of her marriage, but she saw the preparations going on with languid indifference, which her father attributed to her perfect resignation to his will. One thing she had requested of Lord Arlington, and he had granted it, and this was—that the duke should visit her only, occasionally, as a common acquaintance.
The wedding-day approached: it was the night before—the magnificent dress, with the gorgeous jewels and bridal gifts, were all prepared. Mabel asked leave to retire early, and as she knelt, according to the custom, to receive her father’s good-night embrace, she gently kissed his hand and a tear fell upon it. With more than his usual tenderness, he said—“God bless and keep you, my darling daughter!”
That morning, Mabel did not appear. It was late, and becoming alarmed, her father entered her room. The curtained bed had not been touched. She had fled—and with her, a young girl, her waiting-maid, who loved her fair mistress with almost a passionate fondness. No clue could be obtained of her course; search was unavailing; and, heart-broken and disconsolate, the father—after a year or two of utter silence as to her fate—relapsed into a sad and stern misanthropy. None but himself knew how sharp were the pangs of remorse, or how his solitude was haunted by a pale, sad face, and the moans of a broken heart.
What sought they thus afar? Bright jewels of the mine? The wealth of seas, the spoils of war? They sought a faith’s pure shrine. Hemans.
It was early in June, 1660, that in one of the oldest settlements of the New England colony, quite a large number of persons were assembled in the best room the town afforded, to worship God according to the rites of the English church. It was the first time since the settlement of the place that the liturgy of the church had been heard there; and the congregation, many of them wept with delight to hear again those well-remembered strains; and their voices swelled in one unanimous response, as the lips of the aged man of God repeated, “Glory be to the Father, and to the Son, and to the Holy Ghost.”