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Updated: June 16, 2025
"I was quite amazed to hear the servants say that he had gone so early. I expected to be summoned every moment, to learn that your impatient lover had sent out for a minister to perform the delayed ceremony." Gerelda raised her tear-stained face and looked at her mother. "No; he did not even mention marriage, mother," she sobbed. "What!" shrieked Mrs. Northrup, in dismay.
It was not so pleasant for him to hear that she could enjoy herself in his absence. Jealousy was deeply rooted in his nature. "Is there any special one who has helped to make it so pleasant?" he asked. "Yes. Captain Frazier is here." "Have you been flirting with him, Gerelda?" he asked. "Don't be jealous, Hubert." "I am jealous!" he cried. "You know that is the curse of the Varricks."
Gerelda Northrup knew in her own mind that all her mother said was but too true; but the spirit of coquetry was so deeply imbedded in her nature that she would not resign her sceptre over her old lovers' hearts until the last moment.
He offered his arm to Gerelda, and walked slowly by her side through the throng of friends to the carriage in waiting; and, amid showers of rice, peals of joyous laughter, and a world of good wishes, they were whirled away. During the entire ride Varrick spoke no word. Gerelda watched him narrowly out of the corner of her eye, wondering why he looked so unusually angry.
By daylight she found herself drifting slowly toward a little village, and as the lights became clear enough to discern objects distinctly, she saw that the place was Kingston. At this Gerelda was overjoyed, for she remembered her old nurse, whom she had not seen since early childhood, lived here.
"It is from an unknown friend," whispered the boy, so low that even Varrick did not catch the words. "A simple wish accompanies it," the boy went on, "and that is, when the ceremony is but just begun, you will raise the little book to your lips for the sake of the unknown friend who sends it to you." Gerelda smiled and promised, thoughtlessly enough, that she would comply.
"I have been searching for you for some time, Hubert, to tell you our darling Gerelda is home once more. It was only by the merest chance that some one saw you enter this hotel and told me. I will be back in one minute, depend upon it," said Maillard, seizing his hat and flying out of the door without waiting for a reply. In fact, Varrick could not have made him any had his life depended on it.
"What is all this discussion about, ladies?" he asked. Gerelda uttered a quick gasp as he crossed the threshold. Her heart was in her eyes behind those blue glasses. She had pictured him as being worn and haggard with grieving for her. Did her eyes deceive her?
Thus three days passed, and not even the slightest trace of Jessie Bain could be discovered, and Hubert was beside himself with grief. In the midst of his trouble a strange event happened. As he was passing through the lobby of the hotel one evening, he met Harry Maillard, Gerelda Northrup's cousin.
Northrup was the first to recover from the shock; grief gave place to the most intense anger, and as she paced the floor excitedly to and fro, she vowed to herself that she would never forgive Gerelda for bringing this disgrace upon her. With Varrick the blow had been too severe, too terrible, to be so easily gotten over.
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