“While she was raving in her anguish, Harold Castello suddenly entered the chapel. He had suspected the elopement and followed us.”
“The serpent!” Cecil cried, angrily, and she murmured:
“You may well say so, for no arrival was ever more fatally inopportune. Of course he was delighted at what looked like deliberate skulking and perfidy on your part. He made the most of it, and boldly offered to take your place with Violet.”
Some sounds of inarticulate fury came from Cecil’s lips, and she smiled to herself as she went on stabbing his heart:
“Oh, Cecil, forgive me that it is my cruel task to bring you this news! She listened to him, poor Violet—she was always weak, and vain, and childish—and he made her believe that you would never come, that she was really jilted. She was wild with resentment, she would not listen to me. Before I could realize it, they turned to the preacher. He married them, and they sprang into his carriage and drove away.”
CHAPTER XXIII.
OH! THE TORTURING AGONY OF LOVE BETRAYED!
Amber’s deep-laid scheme had succeeded beyond her wildest hopes.
Every detail had been carried out, with one exception.
She had hoped ardently to secure the opal ring, and to give it to Cecil at this moment, saying, cruelly:
“Violet tore this ring from her finger in scorn, saying: ‘Give this to Cecil Grant, and tell him I despise him, and am glad I have escaped a life of poverty as his wife!’”