In the sunshine of the brilliant day the two processions met and passed each other, the bridal train and the funeral cortège—Cora going to her bridal, her rival to her grave!
The bride’s eyes were riveted on the white, flower-banked casket, and her florid color faded to ashen pallor while she shrank back shuddering:
“It is an evil omen to meet a corpse on the way to one’s wedding!”
“Do not give way to such fancies, dear,” Mrs. van Dorn answered soothingly, but she also grew pale with superstition, though having heard all about Jessie from Cora, she thought inwardly:
“Though it is evil-omened to meet a funeral on the way to one’s wedding, yet I fancy Cora is more fortunate to meet her rival dead than living. Though Frank Laurier treated that poor girl very badly, I believe that a secret remorse is gnawing at his heart, and if she had lived, who knows how it all might have turned out? Frank Laurier has appeared very strange to me these past two days—pale, distrait, and sad—the result of keen remorse, no doubt, but does he love Cora as well as before, I wonder! This encounter with the dead girl has shaken my nerves, and I feel uneasy. I wish the wedding was well over, and the knot safely tied for Cora’s sake. I hope he will be sure to meet us promptly at the church!”
CHAPTER XIII.
FORSAKEN AT THE ALTAR.
Mrs. Dalrymple, throwing back her heavy veil for air, gasped with surprise and wonder.
She could not have dreamed of seeing Frank Laurier at the funeral services at the Van Dorn vault when it was the hour for his wedding at old Trinity.
Yet there he stood in their midst, his handsome head bowed reverently, his face pale, his eyes heavy with grief—he who should be so happy in this his bridal hour!
Catching her startled glance, he moved to her side, whispering sadly: