Alas!
Would Love his ruined quarters recognize
Where shrouded pictures of the past remain,
And gently turn them with forgiving eyes
If Love should come again?
Cora was charmed with the belief in his anxiety for the wedding. She thought that absence had, indeed, taught him her value. With pretty coquetry she pretended coyness in naming another wedding day just to make him plead for haste.
Understanding what was expected of him, he continued to insist, until she named a day just two weeks distant.
“And it shall be a home wedding this time. I could not bear to go to church again after—that day! Oh, I knew it was ill-fated when we met that horrible funeral! I wish I had turned back then and so escaped the next cruel hour—the waiting, the anxiety, the curious faces, some sympathetic, some sarcastic—the sinking at the heart, the bitter resentment, believing myself jilted at the altar! Ah, Frank, there are times when I feel as if I can never forgive you for the humiliation of that hour!” cried Cora, in passionate excitement.
He took her burning hands and kissed them fondly, crying:
“I will make it all up to you, my darling, when I am your husband, by the most patient devotion!”