She could not have dreamed of seeing Frank Laurier at the funeral services at the Van Dorn vault when it was the hour for his wedding at old Trinity. Yet there he stood in their midst, his handsome head bowed reverently, his face pale, his eyes heavy with grief--he who should be so happy in this his bridal hour! Catching her startled glance, he moved to her side, whispering sadly: “I could not stay away, but I shall be in time to meet Cora at Trinity. Ah, how my heart aches with this cruel blow! Let me love you as a son for her dear sake!”--he paused, with a long-drawn sigh, for the venerable bishop was beginning the last sad rites: “Ashes to ashes, dust to dust.” Soon they had to come away and leave her there alone, sweet Jessie, among her dead kindred, she whose brief life had been so sad and lonely, ending with so cruel a tragedy. So fare thee well, sweet friend of mine, Veiled now from sight By death’s dark night, Thou givest back no word or sign. I leave thee with the violets white, By truth caressed, In perfect rest, And bid thee, dear, a fond good-night. Frank Laurier, accompanied by his best man, Ernest Noel, returned to their coupé, and outside the cemetery limits ordered the coachman to proceed as fast as possible to old Trinity to meet the bridal party. Noel thought that this attendance on a funeral in the very hour of his marriage was a very strange freak on the part of his friend, and he was puzzled yet more by the gravity and sadness of Laurier’s face as they drove swiftly along toward the church. But having no clew to the enigma, he tried to dismiss it from his mind, glancing at his watch and saying: “By George, we are due at Trinity now, and it would be shocking to get there late--a slight the bride would not easily forgive!” He was astonished that Laurier made no reply, sitting pale and grave and seemingly indifferent in his seat as if he had not heard. Noel shrugged his shoulders, and called to the coachman: “Drive as fast as you dare. We are already late!” Thereupon the horse was urged to a higher rate of speed, and presently there was a commotion outside, and the coupé stopped. “What is the matter?” inquired Noel, putting his head outside, and thus encountering a burly policeman. “You are under arrest for fast driving,” grunted the guardian of the law. “But, good heavens, man, you must not detain us. It is necessary for us to drive fast in order to reach old Trinity for a wedding ceremony,” expostulated Noel. “Wedding or no wedding, all three of you must come to the station house with me,” answered the policeman, who was both surly and dull-witted. Laurier suddenly aroused himself to the situation, and united his expostulations to Noel’s, but all to no avail. The policeman would not hear to letting them go. He said to himself he would “teach them young bloods a lesson.” He did not credit at all the story of the wedding party waiting at the church.