Mr. Bowen will be there; I arranged
with him last night; he will drive over with his wife and
daughter, who will be our witnesses, dear. We could have gone to
his house, but I thought it would seem more like a real wedding
in a church, you know."
Betty did not answer him, her eyes were fixed straight ahead, the
last vestige of color had faded from her face and a deathly
pallor was there. This was the crowning horror. She felt the
terrible injustice she was doing the man at her side, the depth
and sincerity of his devotion was something for which she could
make no return. Her lips trembled on the verge of an avowal of
her love for Carrington. Presently she saw the church in its
grove of oaks, in the shade of one of these stood Mr. Bowen's
horse and buggy.
"We won't have to wait on him!" said Norton.
"No--" Betty gasped out the monosyllable.
"Why--my darling--what's the matter?" he asked tenderly, his
glance bent in concern on the frightened face of the girl.
"Nothing--nothing, Charley
They had reined in their horses. Norton sprang to the ground and
lifted her from the saddle.
"It will only take a moment, dear!" he whispered encouragingly in
the brief instant he held her in his arms.
"Oh, Charley, it isn't that--it's dreadfully serious--" she said,
with a wild little laugh that was almost hysterical.
"I wouldn't have it less than that," he said gravely.
Afterward Betty could remember standing before the church in the
fierce morning light; she heard Mr.
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