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.