She was startled when a bursting sigh heaved the old man’s breast, and he cried out, with strange agitation:
“Ah, Amber, I treated Violet very cruelly in letting her be deceived into that dreadful marriage!”
Amber’s eyes dilated in angry surprise. She thought he had surely fallen into his dotage.
“That dreadful marriage!” she cried, indignantly. “Why, how you must have changed your mind! You thought all along that it was a very fine thing for Violet to marry a millionaire!”
“I was a doting old fool!” suddenly thundered the judge, in violent self-denunciation, and his wan, wrinkled old features writhed with keen remorse.
“Grandpapa!”
“I was an old fool!” repeated the judge, in a lower key, and in dreadful self-abasement; and he continued, sadly: “Amber, I believe I have been half-mad the last few months, and it seems to me as if you have boldly aided and abetted me in my meanness. In fact, you went further in devising deviltry! Girl, girl, why did you do it? Why did you put that wicked thing in my head? Why didn’t you take your cousin’s part?—sweet Violet, who was so pretty and gentle and tender that we ought to have worshiped her instead of driving her to her death!”
“Dead! Dead! Is Violet dead?” gasped Amber, her lips paling in genuine horror, though there was a throb of wicked joy at her heart.
With a deep groan, Judge Camden answered:
“I did not mean to distress you with the bad news yet, Amber, but my remorse is greater than I can bear alone. Yes, yes. I fear that pretty Violet is dead! We have hounded her to some dreadful fate—suicide, very likely!”