Mr. Lane felt rather proud than otherwise as he walked up the aisle of
the church with Aline Rodney by his side. Her exquisite beauty filled
him with admiration, and he had already decided in his mind that she
was as pure and innocent as she was fair.
He did not care in the least for the opinion of censorious Chester.
If Aline had been a princess, he could not have shown her more
deferential respect than that which he now accorded her. He had the
greatest admiration for her, mingled with pity and sympathy. He said
to himself that he would help her out of her trouble if he could, and
he honestly believed, that the surest way to do that would be to find
out the secret she held and make it public. He had been vexed with her
before he saw her--vexed because she had so baffled investigation and
curiosity. He had determined then, out of pure vexation, to track her
down. Since they had met, his feeling had changed. He was none the less
determined to ferret out her secret, but now he was actuated by pity
and sympathy combined with a belief in her innocence. He decided that
he would say nothing to Dr. Anthony or the Rodneys. He would pursue his
investigations alone. They should hear and know nothing until success
had crowned his efforts.
He studied the fair face keenly whenever he had an opportunity of doing
so. Its varying expression, the lights and shadows that shone in the
dark-blue eyes, had an actual fascination for him. He watched her as
closely as if he expected to find on her lovely, mobile face the key to
the mystery that shadowed her life.
Standing a little apart from her while the marriage ceremony progressed
between her sister and Dr. Anthony, he kept his eyes fixed on her face
and saw the new softness that came upon it as she listened to the
beautiful words of the service. He saw the dark, curling lashes flutter
upward a moment and remain fixed, he saw the blush stealing over her
face, dyeing even the whiteness of her low brow in its radiant glow. He
followed the direction of her eyes, and saw the apparent cause.
At a little distance from the bridal party stood a tall distinguished
looking man leaning lightly against the chancel rail. He was a man to
be looked at twice, for his dress and hearing betokened both wealth and
refinement. It was a handsome face, too, dark and proud and reserved,
with a latent fire in the eyes that had a dark, southern splendor, all
their own.
It was this man at whom Aline Rodney was looking with startled pathetic
blue eyes while the beautiful color rose in burning waves over her fair
young face. Mr. Lane saw the dark eyes and the blue ones hold each
other one moment with a glance he could in nowise fathom, and then,
without a sign of recognition, the gentleman turned his head away.
Aline’s dark lashes fell and the color slowly faded from her face.
Mr. Lane was puzzled.
“Does she know the man? It is not likely that she would blush so at the
glance of a stranger. And yet they gave no sign of recognition,” he
said to himself.
He watched Aline more closely than ever, but he made no discovery. She
did not look at the handsome stranger again; neither did he look at
her; and when the brief service was over he hurriedly left the church
and disappeared in the moving throng.
The Rodneys with Mr. Lane and the newly married pair went back to the
cottage. They were to have tea together, simply and sociably, and then
the doctor and his bride were going off on a little tour before they
settled down to housekeeping in the pretty little village of Maywood.
Aline was very silent and _distraite_. She was overwhelmed by the
parting from her sister. Heavy tears hung on her thick, dark lashes
as she looked at Effie and realized that their pleasant and loving
home-life together was forever ended. Henceforth another home would
claim her sweet sister as its priestess, and she would be the central
sun around which the lesser planets of another household revolved.
“Sitting by the fireside of the hearth,
Feeding its flame.”