The 1806 production of Twelfth Night was a resounding success. It was universally agreed that there had never been a finer Malvolio than Sir Greville Seton, and that Evangeline's phantasmagoric effects were wonderful indeed. Mind you, there was a slight disturbance at one point when several people in the audience cried out that they could see the ghostly and entirely incongruous figures of a Restoration lady and gentleman strolling hand in hand across the stage. Evangeline merely pointed out that her transparencies must have gotten mixed up somehow.
At St. Nicholas's church on St. Valentine's Day 1807, Megan became Lady Seton and Chloe became Lady Rupert Radcliffe. It was a wonderfully happy occasion that was made very grand indeed by the attendance of the Prince of Wales, who had come to Brighton especially to formalize the purchase of Radcliffe House. Evangeline and Sir Jocelyn had their own nuptials planned for May Day, which just happened to be Evangeline's birthday.
After the debacle of their soiree musicale, the Garsingtons had decamped abroad, Gibraltar being unfortunate enough to find itself their chosen destination. Only Sigismund stayed in England, and now that he had escaped torture by hautbois, had become a much more tolerant and contented fellow; indeed he, Greville, and Rupert became good friends. Sigismund could no longer abide to even hear an orchestra, and on account of this was one day to find his way into the arms of the Duchess of Oldenburg, who was sister to Czar Alexander II and who shared Sigismund's loathing for music. But that was another story.
As for Oliver and Ralph, their fate was sealed. Sigismund's new tolerance did not extend to letting either of them escape the Garsington marital hook, and at a very hasty wedding on New Year's Eve an ecstatically happy Sybil became Mrs. March. Ralph was forced back to Sophia, who now trusted him less than ever, and nagged him constantly.
It was unfortunate for both Garsington sons-in-law that Gibraltar was a very small rock, with very few places for them to steal a few moments of peace and quiet. Oh, how often did the Pillars of Hercules ring to the clarion calls of their wives. "Cooee, Oliver! Cooee, Walph! COOEE! COOEE!"