Was it the idle fancy of her own vivid imagination, or did she really see the image of Hubert Varrick confronting her by the brook as the midnight bells of All-Halloween rang out slowly and solemnly on the crisp, chilly night air? "I must be going mad--my brain must be turning," thought the girl, shivering in every limb as she walked slowly back to the house. The sun was up high in the heavens ere her uncle returned. "Such a time as we've had, lass!" he cried, throwing down his cap. "A steamer was wrecked the night before last, and all day yesterday and all last night we were busy doing our utmost for the poor creatures who barely escaped with their lives. We saved a good many who were in the water for many hours, holding on to planks or life-preservers, and there are many lost. It was the steamer 'St. Lawrence,' heavily laden, that was to have connected with the boat for Montreal, for which most of the passengers were bound. There is one woman whom they are bringing here. I came on ahead to have you prepare a bed for her. Every house has been called upon to give shelter to some one. It will make you a little more work, lass, but it will only be for a little while." "I shall be glad of the work, for it will occupy my time and attention," declared Jessie. She had scarcely uttered the words ere the men were seen approaching with their burden. They brought the woman in and placed her on Jessie's little cot. "Oh, how beautiful she is!" murmured Jessie, little dreaming who it was that she was sheltering beneath that roof. CHAPTER XVIII. WEDDING BELLS OUT OF TUNE. Let us return to Hubert Varrick, and the marriage which was the all-absorbing topic in fashionable circles. Mrs. Varrick had sent a note to her son at his hotel, begging for a reconciliation, and stating that she would be at the wedding without fail; but never a word did she say about Jessie Bain. It seemed like a dream to Hubert--his ride in a cab through the cool crisp air to Gerelda's home on that eventful morning. He noticed one thing--that the sun did not shine that day; and he said to himself that it boded ill for his wedding. The bride-elect and her mother welcomed him effusively. Bitter anger filled the girl's heart to see how cold and stern he looked. She noticed that he had no word, no smile for her. If she had not loved him so madly, her pride would have rebelled, and she would have let him go his way even then. She almost shrunk under the cold glance that rested upon her. She trembled, even in that moment, as she thought how he would hate her if he but knew how she had plotted to win him. Before she had a chance to exchange a word with him, her maid of honor came fluttering down the corridor, chattering in high spirits with Harry Maillard, who was to be best man. She was quite as dazed as Varrick himself, until she found herself standing beside him at the altar.