The next night was the wedding-night. It was the first day of January.
Dr. Anthony and Effie had chosen to begin their new life with the new
year.
No invitations had been issued for the marriage, but the church doors
had been thrown open for the accommodation of those who cared to
attend. When the bridal party entered the church, they were surprised
to find that it was closely packed by the population of Chester.
Curiosity had drawn thither all those among whom Effie had formerly
moved, and who had scornfully dropped her because of the mysterious
secret that had darkened her sister’s life.
Effie had always been considered very beautiful and graceful. She had
never looked more so than when she glided up the aisle on the arm
of her handsome, noble-looking lover. She was so proud to have been
chosen by him that she carried her fair head undauntedly, in quiet
indifference to the whispers and glances on every side.
They could not withhold the meed of praise that her beauty claimed.
After all, she had done nothing herself to merit blame. It was only
the shadow of Aline’s dishonor that was reflected upon her. Every one
knew how wild and willful Aline had always been, and how her mother and
sister had tried to curb her in her mischievous pranks and thoughtless
way. Seeing the constancy and devotion of the handsome young physician,
some were moved to repentance for the slights they had put upon the
beautiful bride who looked queenly in her simply made robe of white
satin and the long flowing veil fastened to her dark-brown hair with
snowy orange blossoms. The bridegroom’s gift, a lovely pearl locket
containing the fac-simile of his own handsome face, rested against
her heart, suspended by a slender golden chain. It was an amulet of
happiness to Effie. In spite of the world’s scorn, an ineffable joy had
come to her through her sister’s adventure, since but for it she might
never have become acquainted with the doctor.
But curiously as the crowd gazed upon Effie, they regarded Aline with
even more interest.
She entered the church in advance of the bride, and leaning lightly on
the arm of Mr. Lane, having been preceded by her parents, who entered
first of all.
Every eye turned on the tall, slight young figure in its graceful
drapery of white silk and cashmere. The long, childish curls had been
put up in womanly fashion on the small head in loose waves and puffs,
and as if in mute protest or defiance of their censure, Aline had
fastened a pure white lily in their silken darkness. She carried her
head high as if in conscious rectitude, and her air was that of one
whose thoughts were turned wholly inward upon herself with no jarring
consciousness of the hostile eyes that followed her with scorn and
suspicion in their cold and curious gaze.
Pausing before the chancel rail, Aline and her companion silently
separated and permitted the bridal pair to pass between them to where
the white-robed rector waited, book in hand, to pronounce the solemn
words of an irrevocable union.
The loud triumphant peal of the wedding-march died away into silent
echoes. The rustle and murmur of the perfumed throng grew still.
All waited in thrilling silence while the beautiful words of the
marriage-service fell slowly on the air.
Aline had never been present at a marriage before. She was deeply
impressed by the solemn, beautiful service. She listened with
down-dropped eyes and a grave, sweet look on her fair face.
“What solemn words, and yet how sweet!” she said to herself. “Doctor
Anthony and my sister will have to love each other very dearly to live
up to those heavenly words!”
She had never given one serious thought to the subject of marriage
before; but now, as she gazed at the happy faces of the two, and
listened to the beautiful, thrilling vows that bound them, some idea of
the bliss of a true marriage came into her mind.
“It must be like a heaven upon earth,” she said to herself, and then
quite suddenly she recalled some words her mother had said to her one
day:
“No one will ever wish to marry you, my poor Aline. No man would take
you with such a stain upon your life as that hideous mystery you guard
so jealously.”
Was it true? Would no one ever love her as Dr. Anthony loved her sister
Effie? Would nothing so beautiful as love ever come into her life? She
sighed unconsciously, and with the sigh she lifted her eyes--she never
could have told you why--lifted them, and at a little distance met a
pair of eyes gazing straight into her own with a strange, magnetic
fire--Oran Delaney’s!
She did not know what had caused her to look up at that moment, and she
knew just as little why she blushed when she met that intent gaze--a
blush that burned her pure face like fire.