"Violet, do not use such hasty words," he said, sadly. "She has a right to make her own choice. She has set her mark higher even than your unworthy brother."
"You do not mean," said Violet slowly, then paused, while every vestige of color fled from her lips and cheeks as she stared at Walter.
"She is engaged to Valchester," he answered, abruptly.
The words came with the suddenness of a blow.
Violet shivered and moaned like something wounded to death; then all in a moment she slid from her seat to the floor, and lay there, a white and senseless heap, upon the rich velvet carpet.
Walter sprang from his seat in alarm and consternation. He had never before suspected the secret of Violet's hidden love for Ronald Valchester. It all rushed over him now overwhelmingly. With almost womanly tenderness he lifted his stricken sister gently to a sofa, and bringing eau de cologne from the toilet-table laved her cold face and hands with the refreshing water.
She opened her eyes and stared blankly at him in a moment.
"Darling, are you any better?" he asked, gently.
Then Violet threw her white arms round his neck and clung to him, weeping wildly.
"Walter, is it indeed true?" she sobbed. "Is she to marry Ronald?"