He was pacing the library in high excitement. Turning, at her entrance, he exclaimed:
“I have startling news for you! Cecil Grant has just left here!”
“Yes, grandpapa, I saw him from my window leaving the house, and I was wild with curiosity to know what had brought him to Golden Willows.”
“You could not guess in a year,” he replied, with an air of conviction.
“I am sure I could not, dear grandpapa, for of course he did not come to accuse you of treachery in Violet’s marriage to Mr. Castello.”
“Violet’s name was not mentioned between us. He did not stay above fifteen minutes, and the interview was purely a business one.”
Amber, with knitted brows and a puzzled air, exclaimed:
“Surely he was too proud to plead with you to let him stay longer at Bonnycastle! I have heard that his mother’s heart is breaking because she has to leave it, but I did not think that Cecil would humble himself even for her dear sake.”
How superbly she acted her surprise and wonder. If the old man had had the least lurking suspicion that she had lent Cecil money, her insouciance completely deceived him, and he replied, angrily:
“No indeed; my Lord Grant of Bonnycastle, Virginia would not humble his proud crest to living man, you may be sure. It was a mission of triumph, not humiliation, that brought him this afternoon to Golden Willows. In short, the young beggar had got hold of twenty thousand dollars—the Lord only knows where!—and he paid off the debt on Bonnycastle, and took my receipt!”