The Beloved Stranger

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 night at the rehearsal that they had joked over it?

“Therefore if any man can show just cause why they may not lawfully be joined together, let him now declare it, or else hereafter forever hold his peace.”

Her eyes were fastened on Aunt Pat in terror! What if Aunt Pat should arise and say she knew a just cause! Oh, why had she sent that note down so soon? If she could only recall it!

But Aunt Pat was sitting serenely with the note in her hand, reading it, and a look of satisfaction was on her lips, the kind a nice house cat might wear when she had just successfully evaded detection in licking the creamy frosting from a huge cake. Actually, Aunt Pat was looking up with a smile on her strong old face and a twinkle in her bright old eyes. It was almost as if she were pleased! The young man in the blue serge who had delivered the note was nowhere in sight, and yet she couldn’t remember seeing him slip out again, though the white ribbon was swaying a little as if it had recently been stirred.

That deathly stillness settled down over the audience, an audible stillness, even above the voice of the organ undertone; and Sherrill, puzzling over Aunt Pat, turned fascinated eyes toward her former lover. How was he standing this challenge? Whichever girl he thought was standing beside him, surely he could not take this calmly. Oh, if she might only look in his face and see his innocence written there! Yet she knew that could never be!

But she was not prepared for the haggard look she saw on his face, a terror such as a criminal at bay might wear when about to face an angry mob who desired to hang him. The look in his eyes was awful! All their lively brilliancy gone! Only fear, uncertainty, a holding of the breath to listen! His hands were working nervously. She felt almost a contemptuous pity for him, and then a wrenching of the heart again. Her lover, to have come to such a place as that! Almost she groaned aloud, and looked toward the radiant bride, for radiant she really seemed to be, carrying out her part perfectly. Sherrill had felt she could do it. She was clever, and she had an overwhelming love!

And yet in spite of her horror over what was happening, somehow as she looked down there it seemed to be her own self that was standing there in that white satin gown and veil about to take sweet solemn vows upon her. What had she done to put her bright hopes out of her life forever! Oh, hadn’t she been too hasty? Might there not have been some other explanation than the only obvious one? Ought she perhaps to have gone in and confronted those two in each other’s arms?

Then suddenly the girl down there before the altar spoke, and her voice was clear and ringing. The great church full of people held their breath again to catch every syllable:

“I, Arla, take thee, Carter—”

Sherrill felt her breath coming in slow gasps, felt as if someone were stifling her. She strained her ears to hear, on through that long paragraph that she had learned so carefully by heart, her lips moving unconsciously to form the words before she heard them. And Arla was speaking them well, clearly, with a triumphant ring to them, like a call to the lover she had lost. Could he fail to understand and answer? Sherrill pressed her hands hard upon her aching heart and tried to take deep breaths to keep her senses from swimming off away from her.

Again she had a feeling as if that girl down there was herself; yet she was here looking on!

And now it was the bridegroom’s turn!

Sherrill closed her eyes and focused every sense upon the words. Would he respond? Would he do something, or would he let it go on? For now he surely knew!

His voice was low, husky; she could scarcely hear the words above the tender music that she herself had planned to accompany the vow they were plighting. Afterward she fancied it must have been by some fine inner sense rather than the hearing of her ears that she knew what he was saying, for he spoke like one who was afraid!

“I, Carter, take thee, Arla—!”

Ahh! He had said it. He knew now and he had accepted it! He was taking the words deliberately upon his lips. Shamefully, perhaps, like one driven to it, but he had taken them. Her lover was marrying another girl!

He had not even tried to do anything about it!

With a little gasp like a deep-driven sob, she dropped upon her knees and hid her face in her hands, while the gallery in which she knelt reeled away into space, and she suddenly seemed to be hurled as from a parapet by the hands of her former bridegroom, down, down into infinite space with darkness growing all about her. Ah! She had been foolish! Why had she not known that this would happen to her? Love like hers could not be broken, torn from its roots ruthlessly, without awful consequences. How had she thought she could go through this and live through it? Was this the end? Was she about to die, shamelessly, and all the world know that she had a broken heart?

Ahh!

A breath of fresh air came sharply into her face from an opening door just as she was about to touch an awful depth, a strong arm lifted her upon her feet, and a glass of cool water was pressed to her lips.

“I thought this might be refreshing,” a friendly casual voice said, not at all as if anything unusual were happening.

She drank the water gratefully, and afterward she wondered if it were only her imagination that she seemed to remember clinging to a hand. But of course that could not have been.

He looked down at her, smiling, as if he might have been a brother.

“Now, do you feel you have to stay up here till this performance is ended and all the people escorted out below?” he asked pleasantly, “or would you like to slip down now and get your car out of traffic before things get thick? You look awfully tired to me, but if you feel you should stay, I’ll bring up a chair.”

“Oh,” said Sherrill bewilderedly, “is it—are they almost—?”

She leaned forward to look.

“Just about over I fancy,” said the man, who was steadying her so efficiently.

And as if to verify his words, the voice of the clergyman came clearly: “I pronounce you husband and wife. Whom therefore God hath joined together, let no man put asunder.”

She shuddered and shrank back. The man could feel her tremble as he supported her.

“This would be a good time if you are going to slip away,” he whispered. “There is just the brief prayer, and then the procession out is rather rapid. I fancy traffic will thicken up quickly after they are out. Or would you rather wait until they are all gone?”

“Oh no!” said Sherrill anxiously. “I must get back to the house if possible before they get there!”

“Then we should go at once!”

She cast one more glance down at the two who stood with clasped hands and bowed heads, and rapidly reviewed what was to come.

After this prayer there was the kiss!

She shivered! No, she did not want to see Arla lift her radiant head for that kiss. She had watched him kiss her once that night; she could not stand it again.

“Yes! Let us go quickly!” she whispered hurriedly with one last lingering glance, and then she stumbled toward the stairs.



Out in the cool darkness with a little breeze blowing in her face and the bright kind stars looking down, Sherrill came to herself fully again, her mind racing on to what was before her.

She was glad for the strong arm that still helped her across the street, but she felt the strength coming into her own feet again.

“I can’t ever be grateful enough to you,” she said as they reached the car, and she suddenly realized that she had treated him as if he were a mere letter carrier or a drink of water. “You have done a lot for me tonight. If I had more time, I would try to make you understand how grateful I am.”

“You needn’t do that,” he said gently. “You just needed a friend for a few minutes, and I’m glad I happened by. I wonder if there isn’t something more I could do? I’m going to drive you home, of course, if you’ll let me, for you really shouldn’t try yourself, believe me. Or is there some friend you would prefer whom I could summon?”

“Oh no,” she said, looking frightened. “I don’t want anyone I know. I want to get back before they miss me—and really, I think I could drive. Still if you don’t mind, it would be a great help. But I hate to take more of your time.”

“I’d love to,” he said heartily. “I haven’t another thing to do this evening. In fact, I’m a stranger in town and was wondering what I could do to pass the time until I could reasonably retire for the night.”

“You seem to have been just sent here to help in a time of need,” she said simply as he put her into the car and then took the wheel himself.

“I certainly am glad,” he said. “Now, which way? Couldn’t we take a shortcut somewhere and keep away from this mob of cars?”

“Yes,” said Sherrill, roused now fully to the moment. “Turn to the left here and go down the back street.”

“I wonder,” he said as they whirled away from the church with the triumphant notes of the wedding march breaking ruthlessly into their conversation, “if there wouldn’t be some way I could serve you the rest of the evening? I’m wholeheartedly at your service if there is any way in which just a mere, may I say friend, can help out somewhere?”

“Oh,” said Sherrill, giving him a startled look in the semidarkness, “you’re really wonderfully kind. But—I hate to suggest any more, and—it’s such a silly thing!—”

“Please,” said the young man earnestly, “just consider me an old friend for the evening, won’t you, and ask what you would ask if I were.”

Sherrill was still a second, giving him a troubled look.

“Well, then—would you consider it a great bore to go back with me to that reception and sort of hang around with me awhile? Just as if you were an old friend who had been invited to the wedding? You see, I—well, I’m afraid I’ll have to explain.”

“You needn’t if you don’t want to,” said the young man promptly. “I’ll be delighted to go without explanations. Just give me my cue, and I’ll take any part you assign me if I can help you in any way. Only, how the dickens am I going to a swell wedding reception in a blue serge suit?”

“Oh,” said Sherrill blankly. “Of course, I hadn’t thought of that. And I suppose there wouldn’t be any place open near here where we could rent some evening things? Well, of course it was a foolish idea, and I oughtn’t to have suggested it. I’ll go through the thing all right alone, I’m sure. I’m feeling better every minute.”

“No,” said the young man, “it wasn’t and you’re not! I’ve got a perfectly good dress suit and everything else I’ll need in a suitcase up in my room in the hotel, and it’s just around that corner there. If you think it wouldn’t make you too late, I could just park you outside a minute and run up and get the suitcase. Then I could put it on in the garage or somewhere, couldn’t I? Or would it be better for me to get dressed in the conventional manner and take a taxi back?”

“Oh,” laughed Sherrill nervously, “why, we’ll stop at the hotel, of course. It won’t take you long, and they can’t have started home yet, can they?”

“They haven’t got the bride and groom into their car yet, if you ask me,” said the young man blithely. “I doubt if they’re out at the front door, to judge by that music. I’ve sort of been humming it inside since we started. You know, there’s always a delay getting the cars started. Here’s the hotel. Shall I really stop and get my things?”

While she waited before the hotel, she put back her head and closed her eyes, her mind racing ahead to the things she had to do. The worst nightmare of the evening was yet to come, and for an instant as she faced it she almost had a wild thought of leaving the whole thing, kind young man and all, and racing off into the world somewhere to hide. Only of course she knew she wouldn’t do it. She couldn’t leave Aunt Pat like that!

And then almost incredibly the young man was back with a suitcase in his hand.

“I had luck,” he explained as he swung himself into the car. “I just caught the elevator going up with a man to the top floor. I had only to unlock my door, snatch up my suitcase, and lock the door again, so I caught the elevator coming back. I call that service. How about it?”

“You certainly made record time,” said Sherrill. “Now turn right at the next corner, and go straight till I tell you to turn.”

They were out in a quiet street and making good time when she spoke again.

“I’ve got to tell you the situation,” she said gravely, “or you won’t understand what it’s all about and why I want you to help. You see, this was my wedding tonight.”

“Your wedding?” He turned a startled face toward her.

“Yes, and I doubt whether very many have taken it in yet that I wasn’t the bride.”

“But—why—how—when—?”

“Yes, of course,” explained Sherrill. “It all happened less than an hour ago. I was all dressed to go to the church, and I happened to find out about her. I—saw them together—saying good-bye—”

She caught her breath, trying to steady her voice and keep the tears back, and he said gently, “Don’t tell me if that makes it harder. I’ll get the idea all right. You want me to hang around and be an old friend, is that the idea?”

“That’s it,” said Sherrill. “I thought if I just had somebody—somebody they all didn’t know—somebody they could think had been an old friend back in my home in the West before I came here, it wouldn’t be so hard.”

“I understand perfectly,” he said. “I am your very special oldest friend, and I’ll do my noblest to help you carry off the situation.” His voice was gravely tender and respectful, and somehow it gave her great relief to know he would stand by her for the evening.

“You are wonderful,” she said in a shaky little voice. “But, I never thought, is there—have you a wife or, or—somebody who would mind you doing that for a stranger?”

He laughed blithely, as if he were glad about it.

“No, I haven’t a wife. I haven’t even somebody. Nothing to worry about in that direction. Though I wouldn’t think much of them even if I had if they would mind lending me for such an occasion.”

“Well, I guess I’m not worth much that I’m letting you do it, but things are almost getting me. I was pretty tired and excited when it happened, and then, you know, it was less than an hour ago, and kind of sudden.”

“Less than an hour ago!” said the young man, appalled. “Why, how did you work it to get the other girl there all dressed up?”

“I waited till he had started to the church. I guess I was dazed at first and didn’t know what to do. I just dragged her into my room and made her put on the wedding things and sent her off in the car. You see, the man who was to give me away was a distant cousin who didn’t know me, had been late in arriving, and the maid of honor was a friend of my aunt’s who had never seen me either.”

“But didn’t the bridegroom know?”

“Not until he saw her coming up the aisle, or—I’m not sure when he knew, but—” There came that piteous catch in her voice again. “I don’t know just when he knew, but he accepted it all right. He—used her name in the service, not mine. I haven’t thought much yet about what I did. But I guess it was a rather dreadful thing to do. Still—I don’t know what else I could have done. The wedding was all there, and I couldn’t marry him, could I? Perhaps you think I am a very terrible girl. Perhaps you won’t want to pose as my friend now you know.”

He could hear that the tears were very near to the surface now, and he hastened to say earnestly, “I think you are a very brave and wonderful girl.”

“Here’s where we turn,” she said breathlessly, “and I think that’s their car down two blocks away. They have to go in the front drive, but we’ll go on around here to the service entrance. Then we can get in before they see us.”

“And by the way, oughtn’t I know your name?” he said quietly. “Mine is Graham Copeland, and you can call me ‘Gray’ for short. It will sound more schoolmatish, won’t it? All my friends call me Gray.”

“Thank you,” said Sherrill gravely. “And I’m Sherrill Cameron. That was my aunt Pat you took the note down to. She is Miss Catherwood. She didn’t know either. I had to write and tell her.”

“I couldn’t help seeing some of the words,” he admitted. “Will she stand by you?”

“I—don’t know—!” Sherrill hesitated. “I thought I saw a twinkle in her eye, but it may have been indignation. She’s rather severe in her judgments. She may turn me right out of the house after it’s over. But if I can only get through the evening without shaming her, I won’t care. She’s been so very kind to me. I know this will be hard for her to bear. She stands very high in the community and is very proud. But she’ll be nice to you. And then there’ll be the bridesmaids and ushers. I’ll introduce the rest of them. You won’t be expected to know everybody. Here we are, and that’s the first car just coming into the drive now! Oh, we’re in plenty of time! Just leave the car right here. This is out of the way. Yes, lock it. Now, come; we’ll go up the fire escape, if you don’t mind, and then we won’t have to explain ourselves.”

Swiftly they stole up the iron stairs, Sherrill ahead, reaching down a guiding hand in the dark, giggling a little, nervously, as they stepped inside the window. Then she scuttled him down the back hall, opened a door to a small room that had been fixed up for the occasion as a dressing room, showed him how to find the front stairs, and directed him where to meet her as soon as he was ready.

Back through the two dim rooms where she had so recently come face-to-face with catastrophe, she hurried; only they were not in confusion now. The maids had been there straightening up. There were no traces of Cassie’s suitcase nor Linda’s street shoes. All was in immaculate order, the door thrown open to accommodate the expected crowds.

Sherrill slipped into her own room and fastened both doors.

Here, too, were signs of straightening. Her suitcase was closed, the closet doors and bureau drawers shut, everything put carefully away. But this room, of course, was not to be used for the guests. It was where the bride was expected to dress for going away.

Sherrill dashed to the dressing table and tried to obliterate as far as possible the traces of the past hour’s experience from her face. She didn’t care personally how she looked, but she did not want the assembled multitude to remark on her ghastly appearance. If she must go through this evening, she would do it gallantly.

She waited long enough to possess herself of a great ostrich feather fan that just matched the green of her frock. It would be wonderful to hide behind if need came, and give her a brave appearance. Then she put on the gorgeous necklace of emeralds, with three long pendants of emeralds and diamonds, a family heirloom that Aunt Pat had given her just that day. She must have something to replace the bridal pearls that were hers no longer. There were some rings and bracelets, too. She hadn’t had much time to get acquainted with them. She fingered them over and chose one luscious square-cut emerald for her finger. Her hands also should go bravely, not missing the diamond which she had worn for the past four months.

She slipped the magnificent ring on her finger, closed her eyes for a second, taking a deep breath, then hurried downstairs.

There were sounds of approach at the front of the house, the lively chatter of bridesmaids disembarking from their respective cars. Aunt Pat was just entering the front door leaning on Gemmie’s arm. Off in the far corner of the great reception room to the right, she could see Carter with his bride huddled under the bower of palms and flowers like a pair of frightened fowls between the clearing of two storms. The bride had her back toward the hall and was talking earnestly. Carter was half turned away, too, casting furtive frantic glances behind him, an ungroomly scowl upon his handsome brow. Poor Arla! Her hell had probably begun!

Sherrill unfurled her green fan and went bravely forward to meet Aunt Pat.