him, unseen, watching.
“Dearly beloved, we are gathered together in the sight of God and in the presence of this company to join together this man and this woman in the bonds of holy matrimony—”
Chapter 3
A great wrench came to Sherrill’s heart as she looked down and realized that but for a trifling accident, she would even now be standing down there in that white dress and that veil getting married! If she had not tried to go through those two rooms without being seen, if she had not planned to go and show herself to Mary—poor Mary, who was lying on her bed even now thinking she was forgotten—if just such a little trifle as that had not been, she would be down there with Carter now, blissfully happy, being bound to him forever on this earth as long as they both should live. So irrevocable!
For an instant as she thought of it, her heart contracted. Why did she do this awful thing, this thing which would separate her forever from the man she loved so dearly? She could have slipped back into her room unseen; the other girl would have gone away, afraid to do anything else; and she could have gone to the church, and nobody would ever have been the wiser. She would have been Mrs. McArthur. Then what could Arla Prentiss do? Even if she had taken her life, few would have ever heard of it.
But she, Sherrill Cameron, even if she were Sherrill McArthur, would never have been happy. She knew that, even as she looked down into the white face of the staring, stony-eyed bridegroom. For between her and any possibility of joy there would always have come that look on his face when he had kissed the other girl and told her he would always love her best. She never could have laughed down nor forgotten that look. How many other girls had he said that to? she wondered. Was Arla, too, deceived about it? She evidently thought that she, Sherrill, was her only rival. But there might have been others, too. Oh, if one couldn’t trust a man, what was the joy of marriage? If one were not the only one enthroned in a man’s heart, why bind oneself to his footsteps for life? Sherrill had old-fashioned simple ideas and standards of love and marriage. But Sherrill was wondering if she would ever be able to trust any living man again, since Carter, who had always seemed such a paragon of perfection, had proved himself so false and weak! No, she could never have married him, not after seeing him with Arla. Oh, were all men like that?
And there he was getting married to the other girl, and not doing a thing about it! She was sure he knew now, and he was making no protest.
And then suddenly she saw her own heart and knew that somewhere back in her mind she had been harboring the hope that he would do something. That he would somehow—she didn’t know how, for it wasn’t reasonable—find a way to stop this marriage and explain all the wrong, and that joy would find its way through sorrow! But he wasn’t doing a thing! He didn’t dare do a thing! Fear, stark and ugly, was written upon his face. He knew himself to be guilty. He was standing there before the assembled multitude, the “dearly beloved” of the service, and not one of them knew a thing about what was happening but himself, and he knew, and he wasn’t doing a thing! He didn’t dare!
And then, just down below her in the front seat, a little motion attracted her eyes. A white ribbon lifted, and a figure slid beneath. A young man in a blue serge suit with a pleasant face had glided so quietly into the seat beside the little gray lady with the white laces that nobody around her seemed to have even noticed. He was handing her a folded paper and whispering unobtrusively a word in her ear. Aunt Pat had her note now, and in a moment she would know the truth! How would Aunt Pat take it? She was perfectly capable of rising in her delicate little might and putting a stop to the service. How awful it would be for everybody if she did that! Perhaps the note ought to have been held up until the service was over.
Then even with the thought came that frightful challenge. Was it only last