He scarcely waited for her to consent. He stopped the coach, and fairly lifted her from the vehicle in his strong arms.

"Oh, Doctor Gardiner, is it for the best?" she cried, clinging to him with death-cold hands. "Are you _sure_ you want me?"

The answer that he gave her, as he bent his fair, handsome head, must have satisfied her. Loving him as she did, how could she say him nay?

They entered the parsonage, and when they emerged from it, ten minutes later, Bernardine was Jay Gardiner's wedded wife.

And that was the beginning of the tragedy.

"I shall not take you to the scene of the fire just now, my darling," he decided. "The sight would be too much for you. In a day or two, when you have become more reconciled to your great loss, I will take you there."

"You know best, Doctor Gardiner," she sobbed, as they re-entered the vehicle. "I will do whatever you think is best."

"Where to, sir?" asked the driver, touching his cap.

"We will go to Central Park," he answered; then turning to Bernardine, he added: "When we reach there, we will alight and dismiss this man. We will sit down on one of the benches, talk matters over, and decide what is best to be done--where you would like to go for your wedding-trip; but, my love, my sweetheart, my life, you must not call me 'Doctor Gardiner.' To you, from this time on, I am Jay, your own fond husband!"

CHAPTER x.x.x.

Jay Gardiner had taken fate in his own hands. He had married the girl he loved, casting aside every barrier that lay between them, even to facing the wrath, and, perhaps, the world's censure in deserting the girl to whom he was betrothed, but whom he did not love.

He was deeply absorbed in thinking about this as the cab stopped at the park entrance.

"Come, my darling!" exclaimed Jay, kissing fondly the beautiful face upturned to him, "we will alight and talk over our plans for the future."

She clung to him, as he with tender care, lifted her from the vehicle.

He was her husband, this grand, kingly, fair-haired man, at whom the women pa.s.sing looked so admiringly. She could hardly realize it, hardly dare believe it, but for the fact that he was calling her his darling bride with every other breath.

He found her a seat beneath a wide-spreading tree, where the greensward was like velvet beneath their feet, and the air was redolent with the scent of flowers that rioted in the sunshine hard by.

"Now, first of all, my precious Bernardine, we must turn our thoughts in a practical direction long enough to select which hotel we are to go to; and another quite as important matter, your wardrobe, you know."

Bernardine looked up at him gravely.

"This dress will do for the present," she declared. "The good, kind old nurse dried and pressed it out so nicely for me that it looks almost as good as new. And as for going to a hotel, I am sure it is too expensive.

We could go to a boarding-house where the charges would be moderate."

Jay Gardiner threw back his handsome head, and laughed so loud and so heartily that Bernardine looked at him anxiously.

"Now that I come to think the matter over, I don't think I ever told you much concerning my financial affairs," he said, smiling.

"No; but papa guessed about them," replied Bernardine.

"Tell me what he guessed?" queried Jay. "He thought I was poor?"

"Yes," replied Bernardine, frankly. "He said that all doctors had a very hard time of it when they started in to build up a practice, and that you must be having a very trying experience to make both ends meet."

"Was that why he did not want me for a son-in-law?"

"Yes, I think so," admitted Bernardine, blushing.

"Tell me this, my darling," he said, eagerly catching at the pretty little hands lying folded in her lap; "why is it that _you_ have waived all that, that you have married me, not knowing whether I had enough to pay for a day's lodging?"

The most beautiful light that ever was seen flashed into the tender dark eyes, a smile curved the red lips that set all the pretty dimples dancing in the round, flushed cheeks.

"I married you because----" and then she hesitated shyly.

"Go on, Bernardine," he persisted; "you married me because----"

"Because I--I loved you," she whispered, her lovely face fairly covered with blushes.

"Now, the first thing to do, sweetheart, is to call a cab, that you may go to the nearest large dry-goods store and make such purchases as you may need for immediate use. I can occupy the time better than standing about looking at you. I will leave you at the store, and have the cabby drive me around to the old nurse and explain what has occurred, and tell her that you won't come back. Then I can attend to another little matter or two, and return for you in an hour's time. And last, but not least, take this pocket-book--I always carry two about me--and use freely its contents. The purse, and what is in it, are yours, sweet!"

"Oh, I couldn't think of taking so much money!" declared Bernardine, amazed at the bulky appearance of the pocket-book at the first glance.

Jay Gardiner laughed good-naturedly.

"You shall have everything your heart desires, my precious one," he declared. "Don't worry about the price of anything you want; buy it, and I shall be only too pleased, believe me."

There was no time to say anything further, for the store was reached, and Jay had barely time to s.n.a.t.c.h a kiss from the beautiful lips ere he handed her out.

"I will return in just an hour from now, Bernardine, with this cab," he said. "If you are not then at the door, looking for me, I shall wait here patiently until you do come out."

"How good you are to me!" murmured the girl, her dark eyes br.i.m.m.i.n.g over with tears. "If papa could only know!"

"There, there now, my darling, it hurts me to see those eyes shed tears!

The past is past. Your father would be glad to know you have a protector to love and care for you. Try to forget, as much as you can, the sad calamity, for _my_ sake."

And with another pressure of the hands, he turned away and sprung into the cab, watching the slender form from the window until it disappeared in the door-way and was lost to sight.

"Love thrust honor and duty aside," he murmured. "I married sweet Bernardine on the impulse of the moment, and I shall never regret it. I will have a time with Sally Pendleton and her relatives; but the interview will be a short one. She has other admirers, and she will soon console herself. It was my money, instead of myself, that she wanted, anyhow, so there is no damage done to her heart, thank goodness. I will----"

The rest of the sentence was never finished. There was a frightful crash, mingled with the terrific ringing of car-bells, a violent plunge forward, and Jay Gardiner knew no more.

With a thoughtful face, Bernardine walked quickly into the great dry-goods store.

She tried to do her husband's bidding---put all thoughts of it from her for the time being--until she could weep over it calmly, instead of giving way to the violent, pent-up anguish throbbing in her heart at that moment.

She had not been accustomed to spending much money during her young life. The very few dresses she had had done duty for several years, by being newly made over, sponged, and pressed, and freshened by a ribbon here, or a bit of lace there. So it did not take long to make the few purchases she deemed necessary, and even then she felt alarmed in finding that they footed up to nearly seven dollars, which appeared a great sum to her.

Six o'clock now struck, and the clerks hustled away the goods en the counters, and covered those on the shelves with surprising agility, much to the annoyance of many belated customers who had come in too late "to just look around and get samples."

To the surprise of the clerks, as they reached the sidewalk from a side entrance of the building, they saw the beautiful young girl still standing in front of the store with the parcel in her hand and a look of bewilderment on her face.