“Oh, sir, do not betray me! I could not bear detection! What will you take to keep my wretched secret?” His eyes gleamed with cupidity as he answered: “You are rich, so I don’t think you would mind a thousand dollars, would you?” “You shall have it!” “Then my lips are sealed. Get in and let me drive you home, Miss Ellyson. Then I must manage to have the horse and sleigh returned to the stables without exciting suspicion, so you will have to confide in me, don’t you see, so that I can help you better,” shrewdly. Oh, how it galled her pride to take him into her confidence, but there was no other way, so she said evasively: “He was Ernest Noel, who fell in love with me and tried to supplant Mr. Laurier in my heart. On this drive he took the liberty of kissing me, and in defending myself I gave him a fatal blow.” He helped her in and took her home, afterward returning the sleigh to the stables in a way that diverted all suspicion. CHAPTER XXIII. A MYSTERIOUS DISAPPEARANCE. Two weeks rolled around very quickly and brought Cora’s wedding day again. It would be somewhat different from the one that had been so tragically interrupted the month before. This would be a home wedding at Mrs. van Dorn’s, where Cora was still staying. And she had chosen another maid of honor, because the first one was still absent in the South. Laurier also would have to select another friend for his best man, as Ernest Noel had mysteriously disappeared. No one had seen him since the afternoon when he had taken Miss Ellyson sleigh riding, and it was currently believed that the young man had committed suicide. Cora had lent color to this report by frankly owning that Noel had perfidiously sought to win her from Laurier, and in the madness of disappointment threatened to take his own life. She told glibly of their long sleigh ride, in which they had been caught in the snowstorm and lost their way, not returning until after nightfall. She grew pale and grave when she told how Noel had pleaded for her love in passionate phrases, and how angry he had grown when she had upbraided him for his treachery to his friend. “All is fair in love or war,” he had replied doggedly, and turned a deaf ear to her pleadings that he would turn back from the storm that was gathering. “I shall drive on and on if it be to perdition until you take pity on me!” he had vowed grimly, but her fright and tears had moved him at last to bring her back home. With her hand close clasped in Laurier’s, Cora had repeated her story, ending sadly: “I was very angry with the poor fellow, yet I pitied him, too; he was so tragically in earnest, and I shall never forget him as I saw him last when he left me at the door. His face was pale as death, and his eyes glared wildly under the electric lights as he took my hand in his and kissed it, murmuring tragically: