"Just
so," he acquiesced gladly; "a mere dream--and a dream can make no
sensible man unhappy."
Bayne laughed with a tense note of satire. "Well, the awakening was a
rude jar, I must confess."
For it had been no ordinary termination of an unhappy love affair. It
befell within a fortnight of the date set for the prospective marriage.
All the details of publicity were complete: the cards were out; the
"society columns" of the local journals had revelled in the plans of the
event; the gold and silver shower of the bridal presents was raining
down. The determining cause of the catastrophe was never quite clear to
the community--whether a lover's quarrel with disproportionate
consequences, by reason of the marplot activities of a mercenary relative
of the lady's, advocating the interests of a sudden opportunity of
greater wealth and station; or her foolish revenge for a fancied slight;
or simply her sheer inconstancy in a change of mind and heart. At all
events, without a word of warning, Julian Bayne, five years before, had
the unique experience of reading in a morning paper the notice of the
marriage of his promised bride to another man, and of sustaining with
what grace he might the role of a jilted lover amidst the ruins of his
nuptial preparations.
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