Fate was playing at cross-purposes with handsome Rex, but no subtle warning came to him.
CHAPTER XXXI.
The preparations for the wedding went steadily on. It was to be a magnificent affair. Inside and outside of Whitestone Hall fairly glowed with brilliancy and bloom.
Rex’s deportment toward his promised bride was exemplary; he did his best to show her every possible attention and kindness in lieu of the love which should have been hers.
There seemed to be no cloud in Pluma Hurlhurst’s heaven.
She had no warning of the relentless storm-cloud that was gathering above her head and was so soon to burst upon her in all its fury.
She walked among her guests with a joyous, happy smile and the air of a queen. Why should she not? On the morrow she would gain the prize she coveted most on earth––she would be Rex’s wife.