She left her home with a bounding heart, For the world was all before her; And felt it scarce a pain to part, Such sun-bright beams came o'er her. A. A. WATTS. The wedding feast was cleared away, the guests had departed, and the last joy peal with its varied chimes, and crashing cannons from the old church tower was sounding musically through the mountain valley.
Over the whole aspect of Glan Pennant was spread that air of almost desolation, ever, more or less, succeeding an event such as had, this day, been celebrated there.
The very servants, to whose festive entertainment the evening had been appropriated, whether able to carry out to the required extent the kind intentions of their employers, or reduced by the fatigue and excitement of the day to the condition of that establishment, Dickens has so ably and ludicrously described, at all events suffered not their notes of mirth to escape the precincts of their apartments. All was hushed as the sleeping beauty's palace in the superior portion of the mansion; and if not quite deserted, to one entering the house at the moment of this opening chapter, it might almost have seemed that the same spell had been cast over its inmates.