Hand in hand they stole from the old house out into the frosty woods, creeping timorously along, and starting in fear if a dry twig crackled under their feet, or a dead leaf rustled overhead, for they were flying from a pitiless fiend whom they feared and abhorred, and every moment was an hour until they struck into the quiet suburban street where Lena’s widowed mother lived alone in a pretty little six-roomed cottage.
Mrs. Lavarre was her daughter’s confidante in everything now, and so she was not much surprised when she returned, bringing with her a beautiful stranger guest. She welcomed Violet very kindly, and soon set before them a nice warm breakfast, after which they retired to sleep off the chill and fatigue of the cold night spent in the woodland hut.
CHAPTER XXXVI.
MRS. SHIRLEY’S TROUBLE.
Several days passed very quietly and uneventfully at Golden Willows; for, strange to say, Harold Castello did not come there to seek for his fugitive bride.
Amber was bright and happy, and gave herself up to the entertainment of company. Whenever this source of amusement failed her, she stole away to Bonnycastle, where she was now a welcome visitor.
Judge Camden suffered from twinges of his old enemy, the rheumatism, and Mrs. Shirley moped in her most doleful fashion. Indeed, she was once or twice surprised by the old gentleman in tears.
When he caught her for the third time surreptitiously wiping her eyes, his wrath broke bounds, and he demanded, curtly:
“Now, what the duse is the matter with you, madame? Always going about red-eyed and sniveling.”
Mrs. Shirley protested meekly that nothing ailed her but a bad cold.
“Come, now, that is a fib, old lady. Tell me the truth immediately! Has anybody been treading on your feelings?” cried the old man, whimsically.