Tempted of the Devil.
Una lay awake through the early part of the hot summer night, with her mind full of the crisis in Amethyst’s fate.
She was sad and anxious; all the sweetness of her life was owing to Amethyst’s tenderness, and how long would the loving sister be left beside her?
She could not guess at all what choice Amethyst would be impelled to make, what effect the sight of Lucian would have upon her. She had hardly seemed to heed the discovery that Sylvester Riddell was her lover too. Had she made up her mind to marry Sir Richard Grattan at all costs? Was not Oliver Carisbrooke more to her than she knew? Una believed that her own life had been shipwrecked for ever. She longed with all her heart to see Amethyst steer clear of the treacherous rocks in her way.
She lay awake in the sultry air, listening till the sound of the expected step on the stairs made her heart throb till she was faint.
The step was slow and lingering—would it pass by? No, the door was softly opened, and Amethyst came in. She stood at the foot of the bed, in the flood of summer moonlight, so that her face looked as white as her gown, and her amethysts glittered with a colourless gleam. She looked at Una with cold heavy eyes, and her voice was dull and lifeless.
“Are you having a bad night, dear?” she said.
“Yes—never mind. What has happened to you?”
“Nothing,” said Amethyst.
“Didn’t he come after all?”