The hue and cry of search had just begun, and Amber was the center of a group who listened eagerly as she vehemently reiterated that she had left Violet only a moment to get her a fresh drink, and, on returning, found the invalid gone and Mrs. Shirley alone in the room.
Her tale was so plausible that no one doubted it, for who could believe that Amber cherished a secret hatred for her sick cousin and had tortured her almost to madness, then left her to suffer alone?
So the mystery of Violet’s strange disappearance began to deepen, and Judge Camden was sending servants in all directions to search for her, when Cecil Grant came slowly up the moonlighted path across the lawn, with the missing girl in his arms.
They ran to meet him with cries of joy; even the stern old judge was excited; only Amber held back, filled with terrible dismay at this unlooked-for contretemps.
She had believed that Cecil Grant was many miles away from Golden Willows. Why had he returned, and what was he doing here, with Violet clasped in his arms so fondly that it made her heart throb with a cruel, jealous pain.
The young man paused before Judge Camden, and said, coldly:
“Sir, I have the pleasure of restoring to you your granddaughter, whom I have just saved from throwing herself into the river.”
A confused murmur of surprise from all made him raise his voice, as he continued, with indignant emphasis:
“No sick person should be left alone as Violet was, for there is no telling what a fever-distraught brain may rashly prompt an invalid to do; and, sir, if you loved this dear girl as entirely as I do, you would guard her more carefully.”
Judge Camden was so dazed that he made no move to take Violet from Cecil’s arms; he could only stare at him in boundless amazement.