“Ye gods! how the girl detests me!” he thought; “and by the Eternal, I’ll give her good cause to do so before I am through with her. She is expecting me to rush up and embrace her, while I feel more like making her ears tingle with a thorough boxing. I have no patience whatever with that kind of a girl--they arouse all the hatred and antagonism in my nature. When we turn from the altar, I will show her who is lord and master, confound her!” But the suave, graceful manner in which he came forward, with his inimitable bow and smile, gave no warning of what was passing in his treacherous heart. “Jess,” he murmured, making not the slightest attempt to offer her a caress, but simply offering her his arm, “this is the happiest day of my life. Come, the carriage is in waiting.” Out into the bitter cold air he led her, and adown the marble steps, from which every vestige of the snow had been brushed away. The drive to the church seemed like a dream to the girl. Queenie sat beside her, and the man whom she was to wed sat opposite. No attempt was made to keep up a conversation. Raymond Challoner was congratulating himself that he had reached the point where it was quite unnecessary. The church was quickly reached, and the bridal party hastily entered. “How bitter cold it is in here!” exclaimed the bridegroom-to-be, in an angry tone of voice, addressing the remark to Queenie, whom he had intrusted with the making of the hurried arrangements. “They might have had some semblance of a fire, heating up this old barn of a place. And then, again, there are half a score of people sitting about, while I ordered it to be strictly private.” “No doubt they are the caretakers; you cannot prevent them from entering if they choose,” returned Queenie, indifferently. It did not attract the particular attention of the bridegroom-to-be that all of the men present wore their coats turned high up around their necks, and their hats pulled well down over their faces, for he would have considered it only the usual precaution to fortify themselves against the bitter cold which permeated the edifice in great draughts. They need have little fear of being recognized, for the light that flickered in through the stained-glass windows was unusually dim on this day, which had been ushered in so dark and dismal, with leaden skies, over which black, ominous stormclouds scudded. “There isn’t even the sign of a minister to greet us! I hope there is to be no hitch over this affair,” he remarked to Queenie, his brows darkening perceptibly. “He is in the pulpit, awaiting our coming; he has just entered by the side door yonder,” Queenie replied. Jess uttered no word; she was trembling like a veritable aspen leaf; whether it was from cold, or fear, or both, Raymond Challoner could not determine, nor did he trouble himself to inquire.