BETTER DEAD THAN FALSE.
“But, Amber, I differ with you. Every moment is an hour until I reach
my darling,” cried the impatient lover.
“And I repeat, Cecil, that there is no hurry. Oh, why did you make that
fatal delay? Do you not know that a bridegroom can offer his bride no
greater affront than to be late at the marriage hour?”
“I know that you speak the truth, Amber; but, oh, Heaven! the cause
that detained me was so pressing and sacred and distressing that even a
bride could excuse it. Oh, Amber, there is cruel sorrow at Bonnycastle
this night, and my mother lies low on a bed of anguish. I was summoned
to her side just as I was about to go to the train, and in my horror
and distress at my mother’s illness, and while I was comforting her
with all my poor power, the train left the station. I tore myself from
my poor mother’s couch, rushed to the stable, saddled Prince, and
started for Washington at the maddest pace that ever man galloped to
his bride. See how the sweat pours from Prince’s flanks, and my blood
is rushing through my veins like fire. Violet will forgive me, I know,
for my darling cannot help but sympathize with me in the blow that has
almost killed my mother.”
“What is it, Cecil? for I, too, can sympathize with you in sorrow,”
murmured Amber, very sweetly.
“It will pain you to hear it, Amber, my gentle friend. Spare me the
recital. Let us hasten to sweet Violet. Is she waiting at the chapel?”
“She is not waiting at the chapel, Cecil.”
“Then where? For surely she came with you to the city! You said just
now----” he began, but she interrupted, with a voice of anguish:
“Ask me no more questions, Cecil, for I have cruel news for you--news I
would far sooner die than tell you.”
He cried out in alarm:
“Violet is not ill--not dead! Speak quickly, Amber!”
The girl answered with consummate, tragic force:
“She were better dead than false!”
“Oh, Heaven!” he gasped, hollowly.
“False!” repeated Amber, most bitterly, and went on:
“Oh, Cecil, I tried to prevent it; I told her you would come; I begged
them to wait, but----”
“Go on!” he implored, and she continued, sadly:
“Oh, Cecil, call all your strength and pride to your aid, for it is
cruel news I have for you. Violet was bitterly resentful at your delay.
She wept wildly, hysterically, and raved out that she was a forsaken
bride, jilted at the very altar.”
“My poor Violet, my sensitive little love,” he groaned; but Amber went
on:
“While she was raving in her anguish, Harold Castello suddenly entered
the chapel. He had suspected the elopement and followed us.”
“The serpent!” Cecil cried, angrily, and she murmured:
“You may well say so, for no arrival was ever more fatally inopportune.
Of course he was delighted at what looked like deliberate skulking and
perfidy on your part. He made the most of it, and boldly offered to
take your place with Violet.”
Some sounds of inarticulate fury came from Cecil’s lips, and she
smiled to herself as she went on stabbing his heart:
“Oh, Cecil, forgive me that it is my cruel task to bring you this news!
She listened to him, poor Violet--she was always weak, and vain, and
childish--and he made her believe that you would never come, that she
was really jilted. She was wild with resentment, she would not listen
to me. Before I could realize it, they turned to the preacher. He
married them, and they sprang into his carriage and drove away.”