Two weeks rolled around very quickly and brought Cora’s wedding day
again.
It would be somewhat different from the one that had been so tragically
interrupted the month before.
This would be a home wedding at Mrs. van Dorn’s, where Cora was still
staying.
And she had chosen another maid of honor, because the first one was
still absent in the South.
Laurier also would have to select another friend for his best man, as
Ernest Noel had mysteriously disappeared.
No one had seen him since the afternoon when he had taken Miss Ellyson
sleigh riding, and it was currently believed that the young man had
committed suicide.
Cora had lent color to this report by frankly owning that Noel had
perfidiously sought to win her from Laurier, and in the madness of
disappointment threatened to take his own life.
She told glibly of their long sleigh ride, in which they had been
caught in the snowstorm and lost their way, not returning until after
nightfall.
She grew pale and grave when she told how Noel had pleaded for her
love in passionate phrases, and how angry he had grown when she had
upbraided him for his treachery to his friend.
“All is fair in love or war,” he had replied doggedly, and turned a
deaf ear to her pleadings that he would turn back from the storm that
was gathering.
“I shall drive on and on if it be to perdition until you take pity on
me!” he had vowed grimly, but her fright and tears had moved him at
last to bring her back home.
With her hand close clasped in Laurier’s, Cora had repeated her story,
ending sadly:
“I was very angry with the poor fellow, yet I pitied him, too; he was
so tragically in earnest, and I shall never forget him as I saw him
last when he left me at the door. His face was pale as death, and his
eyes glared wildly under the electric lights as he took my hand in his
and kissed it, murmuring tragically:
“You will never see me again, for I cannot bear my life without your
love! I shall end it to-night, and when you hear of my death you will
know I did it for your sake, and may the thought of it prove a thorn in
the roses of your happiness!”
Cora’s voice sank to a low, sobbing cadence as she added:
“He looked wild enough to do any rash deed, but I did not believe him,
I thought he was only trying to frighten me. I said good night quickly,
and ran into the house, for I was almost frozen, and scared half to
death from our interview.”
“Poor Cora--poor Noel! It was very distressing to you both, I know, and
I fear he really carried out his threat, for nothing has been heard of
him yet, and his relatives are getting very anxious,” said Laurier
gravely, almost wishing in his heart that Cora had taken pity on Noel’s
love and accepted him.
He knew well that she had coquetted with the young man and led him on
to his madness--he had seen it all along while he lay ill--but it was
useless to tax her with the wrong, he could only think bitterly:
“Why will women break hearts for pastime?”
But following the thought, a pale, reproachful face seemed to rise
before him, and lips that he had kissed for the whim of a moment--red,
rosy lips--seemed to murmur:
“What of men?”
So he could not reproach Cora; he was not without fault himself.
The days passed quickly with no tidings of Noel, and the twenty-second
of December came--his wedding day!
Oh, with what joy he had looked forward to it once! The day that should
give him proud, beautiful Cora for his own!
He had loved her madly for a little while, but all his efforts could
not bring back the passion now. It was cold and dead, and his heart lay
like a stone in his breast.
They had decided to go South on a bridal tour, both having crossed
the ocean several times, so that there would have been no novelty in
the trip. Everything was in readiness for the journey as soon as the
wedding reception was over.
Why was it that he could look forward so indifferently to the
tête-à-tête journey with the stately bride for whose sake he was
bitterly envied by other men? Did a dead hand, small and white and
warning--rise between him and his bride, barring out happiness?
It almost seemed so.
Would to God I could awaken!
For I dream I know not how,
And my soul is sorely shaken
Lest an evil step be taken,
Lest the dead who is forsaken
May not be happy now.
He would not listen to the haunting voices throbbing at his heart, but,
putting them aside, prepared to keep his troth plight, praying yet for
love to come back to its forsaken nest in his heart.
Not so with beautiful Cora, who, beaming with joyous anticipations, was
making ready for her bridal, smiling as the maid pinned on the bridal
veil, thinking there could be no bar to her happiness now, for was not
Frank waiting for her downstairs, and everything in readiness!
“Oh, Miss Cora, how magnificent you look! May I let them all see you
now?” cried the exultant maid.
“Yes, I am ready to go downstairs now, and it is time, is it not?”
tilting back the long pier glass for another admiring view at herself
in the glory of her white brocade train and point-lace veil.
Fifine stepped to the door and called Mrs. van Dorn and the others who
were waiting, but as they crossed the threshold, loud, piercing shrieks
rang through the room, and a horrible sight met their eyes.
In stepping back for a better view of herself, Cora had thoughtlessly
brushed against a cluster of wax lights burning in a silver candelabra
on her dressing table. In an instant the flames caught the filmy folds
of her veil and ignited it, wrapping her quickly in leaping flames like
so many writhing serpents.
Never had there been a more tragic interruption to a wedding.
The splendid mansion so gayly decorated for the occasion, instantly
became a scene of dismay and confusion.
The shrieks of the frightened women upstairs brought the bridegroom and
guests rushing to their aid, and it was Frank Laurier himself who first
had the presence of mind to tear the burning garments from Cora, though
at the cost of painful injuries to himself.
But he scarcely gave a thought to that, so keen was his pity for the
poor wreck of what had been but five minutes ago a beautiful, radiant
young girl, with her heart full of love and pride going to the altar
with her handsome lover.
Cora’s injuries were so severe that her blackened, swollen features
were quite unrecognizable. The bridal gown was reduced to a charred,
black mass, and there was not a vestige left of the costly point-lace
veil.
For long weeks she hovered between life and death, and no one supposed
she could ever recover. Indeed, her best friends thought it might be
better to die than to live with all her radiant beauty gone. All her
beautiful hair, her eyebrows and lashes were burned away, and her once
lovely skin was scarred and red. The great, flashing, dark eyes were
dim and sunken.
When after long weeks she began to convalesce to the surprise of all
her doctors, people said that she ought to release Frank Laurier from
his engagement. No man would be willing to marry such a fright.
But Cora was not so magnanimous. She sent word to her lover to be true
to her, and she would marry him as soon as she was quite well again.
Then she consulted the most eminent physicians and dermatologists in
the city about the restoration of her beauty.
She was wild with anguish over her disfigurements, and declared that
she would sacrifice her whole fortune to regain what she had lost by
the terrible accident.
She put herself in their hands and they promised to do their best,
but the process would be slow--she must give up the world for a year,
perhaps, ere success could crown their efforts. She agreed to this and
refused to see her lover until her lost beauty should be restored.