She looked very fair and sweet in her white evening dress and pearl and turquoise jewelry—a fact of which she was not unaware herself, for a smile of gratified vanity curved her rosy lips as she surveyed her own reflection in the full length mirror.
"Ah, Miss Vanity," cried Walter, trying hard to be his natural, careless self. "How do you like yourself?"
Violet turned around and swept him a gay little courtesy.
"Very well, indeed, sir," she laughed. "How do you like me, Walter?"
Walter looked at the tall, stylish figure, and the fair, smiling face with its large blue eyes and rosy lips, with genuine admiration.
"I do not believe any other fellow has as pretty a sister as I have," he replied, and Violet gave him a charming kiss in return for his praise.
"Where have you been, Walter?" she said. "We have missed you all the evening. Mr. Valchester was quite puzzled, but I could very nearly guess—only I did not let him know it."
Walter had thrown himself down in a chair at the window.
The rich lace curtains were drawn aside, admitting the evening breeze, sweet with the breath of flowers. He stared moodily out at the full moon rising over the dark line of the distant hills.