“It is grandpapa!” cried Violet, sitting upright in eager excitement, while Lena cried, indignantly:
“A trap to betray you into your husband’s power.”
Then she started wildly at the cry of remonstrance that came from Violet’s trembling lips.
“Ah, Lena, for sweet pity’s sake, do not speak of that fiend as my husband again. Call his name, if you will, but never say of him that he is my husband, or that I am his wife. It drives me mad with despair.”
“My poor darling, I will try to remember,” soothed Lena, gently, and then they fell to discussing Judge Camden’s personal.
They agreed that it was best that Violet should ignore the personal, for her wicked old grandfather could have only one object in desiring to learn her whereabouts, and that object to betray her into the power of Harold Castello.
But the newspapers of the next day and the succeeding day were eagerly searched, and it was found that they contained the same personal, day after day. Then it varied into other words:
“Violet:—Please come home. I have good news for you.”
And again:
“Dear Violet:—For Heaven’s sake, write to us or come home. We are very unhappy over your fate!”