Finally, these things having been settled in the best way possible, it was resolved to hold the Coronation of the King at Westminster Abbey.
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‘Constance,’ he said holding her in his arms, ‘you believe that I have always loved you, do you not?’
‘I pray your Majesty,’ she said, humbly, ‘to forgive my errors of the past.’
‘My dear, what is there to forgive?’
‘Nay, now I know. There is the Perfect Woman; but she lives in the shadow of the Divine Man: she has her place in the Order of the World; but it is not the highest place. We reigned for a hundred years and more, and everything fell to pieces; you return, and all begins to advance again. It is as if the foot of woman destroyed the flowers which spring up beneath the foot of man. King, if I am to become your wife, I shall also become your most faithful subject.’
‘You are my Queen,’ he said; ‘together we will reign: it may be for the good of our people. We have little strength of ourselves, but we seek it – love – ’
‘We seek it,’ she replied, lifting her eyes to Heaven, ‘of the Divine Man.’
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On the day of the Coronation, by Royal Order, all classes of the people were bidden to the ceremony; as many as could be admitted were invited to the Abbey. Along the line of march they had raised seats one above the other, covered with awnings. An innumerable crowd of people gathered at early morning, and took their places, waiting patiently for eleven, the hour of the procession.
At ten the Peers began to arrive – the newly recognised Peers – the men who had been brought up in ignorance of their origin and rank. They were uneasy in their robes and coronets; they had been carefully instructed in their part of the ceremony, but they were nervous. However, the people outside did not know this, and they cheered lustily.
Long before half-past ten there was not a vacant place in the Abbey; the venerable church was crowded with ladies, who were anxious to make the Coronation the point of a new departure; Society, it was said, would begin again with a King. No doubt, many ladies whispered, women were, after all, poor administrators; their nature was too tender, too much disposed to pity, which produced weakness. Men, who received these confessions, laughed courteously, but remembered the crowded prisons, and the prisoners, and the Convict Wardens.
At eleven o’clock the procession started from Buckingham Palace. The ancient ceremonials were copied as closely as possible. After the bands came the mounted Guards; then followed heralds; then came the Venerable Bishop of London, who was to crown the King, in a carriage; then officers of State on horseback; then the King’s faithful Guards, those sturdy gamekeepers who stood by him at the beginning; and last of all, save for a regiment of cavalry which brought up the rear, the King himself on horseback – gallant, young, handsome, his face lit with the sunshine of success; and riding beside him – at sight of whom a shout went up that rent the air – no other than the beautiful Lady Carlyon herself.
It appeared, when they arrived at the Abbey, that the coronation was to be preceded by another and an unexpected ceremony. For the organ pealed forth the ‘Wedding March’; there were waiting at the gates a dozen bridesmaids in white and silver; the choristers were ready with a wedding-hymn; and the Bishop, with the Very Rev. Clarence Veysey, newly appointed Dean of the Abbey, was within the altar-rails to make this illustrious pair man and wife.
Then followed, without pause, the Coronation service, with the braying of trumpets, the proclamation of heralds, the King’s solemn oath, the crowning of King and Queen, and the homage of the Peers. And amid the shouts of the people, while cannon fired feux de joie, and the bells rang, and the bands played ‘God save the King,’ the newly-crowned monarch rode back to his Palace, bringing home with him the sweetheart of his childhood.
Now there is so much grace and virtue in a real love match that it goes straight to the heart of all who witness it. And since such fruits as these manifestly followed with Man’s administration, not a maiden among them all but cried and waved her handkerchief, and sang ‘God save the King!’