The young men nodded gayly at each other, then Ernest Noel passed into
the house.
“How radiant you look, ma belle!” he exclaimed enviously.
Cora’s red lips parted over her pearly teeth in an enchanting smile of
joy, as she answered:
“Frank has just gone, and we were naming the wedding day again.”
She knew well that the announcement would pierce his heart like a
sword, for only yesterday Ernest had proved unfaithful to his friend
and pleaded for her love.
Beautiful Cora had laughed at her passionate suitor, enraging him with
her scorn.
“You led me on, encouraged me to love you, and hope for a return!” he
cried sullenly.
“Nonsense! You knew I was engaged to Frank all the time!” she cried.
“Yet you pretend indifference to him, refused to marry him on what
might have been his deathbed, and, besides, I had heard it whispered
that you were so angry on your wedding day you had vowed vengeance on
your recreant bridegroom. Is not all this true, Cora?”
“I deny your right to question me. I shall marry Frank when he gets
well,” she cried, with her most imperious air.
“My God, then you were only coquetting with me to pass the time--is it
true?”
“I was kind to you because you were Frank’s friend--that is all--and
you are very wicked to try to steal me from him,” she cried defiantly.
“You were playing with fire,” he muttered, and turned and went away
with a strange smile glooming his dark, strong face.
To-day he wore a careless smile, and did not flinch when she told him
so triumphantly that she had just named the wedding day again.
“Is it so, indeed? Then you will soon be lost to me forever!” he cried
lightly, adding: “I must steal every hour I can from my fortunate rival
until the fatal day. The crust of the snow is hard, and my sleigh is at
the door. Will you come with me for a ride?”
“Yes, I will go,” she answered kindly.
Warmly wrapped in sealskin, she followed him out to the natty little
sleigh, careless in her happiness of the gloomy day and lowering storm
clouds, little dreaming of what was coming.
He tucked the warm robes cozily about her, took up the reins, and they
set off at a spanking pace, gliding gayly over the smooth crust of snow
until they found themselves leaving the crowded city behind.
They had talked but little, but now Noel slackened rein, and said
suddenly:
“So you really love Laurier after all?”
“Of course--when I am to marry him in two weeks!”
“Yet a week ago I could have sworn that you did not care for him.”
“Appearances are deceitful.”
“Yes, very,” he replied, with a low, bitter laugh, adding: “For I could
almost have sworn that your heart had turned from him to me!”
“What egregious vanity!” cried Cora, laughing outright.
The laugh almost drove him mad. Striking the black, fiery horse lightly
with the whip so that it dashed quickly forward again, he almost hissed:
“What would you do to any one who should come between you and Laurier?”
The girl’s eyes flashed, she ground her white teeth together viciously,
crying:
“I should hate them, I should want to murder them!”
Noel’s face grew livid, but he looked around at her fixedly, crying:
“Then you will want to murder me, for I am a barrier between you and
Laurier that cannot be removed. I am your lawful husband, beautiful
Cora!”
“You are mad!” she cried, in alarm. “Let us turn back instantly. See,
the snow is beginning to fall!”
Without heeding her command, Ernest Noel drove on through the gathering
storm, replying hoarsely:
“I am not mad, Cora, I am telling you the truth. Do you remember the
private theatricals we took part in last week for the benefit of that
little church? You were the bride, I was the bridegroom, and it was
a lawful marriage, for I made private arrangements to have it so,
securing a license and a minister. You are my wife as fast as the law
can make you. Now, what have you to say?”