“Willingly, child; for no one can be angry with a sick person’s vagaries,” Amber answered, with a condescending air.
Violet sighed softly and continued:
“When I see Cecil again, I will tell him that perhaps I was wrong in my accusation against you, Amber, for I was so ill and my mind so dazed that perhaps I distorted the truth.”
“Alas, Violet, I fear you will never see Cecil again, for grandpapa swears you shall not, and is hurrying up the preparations for your marriage with the man he has chosen for you.”
To her chagrin, Violet answered, firmly:
“Grandpapa is only wasting his time. I will never marry any man but my own dear Cecil.”
“Ah, Violet, how can you help yourself? Grandpapa’s will is law to us. We must obey him, for we owe him everything!” exclaimed Amber, craftily, advising the obedience she would not have yielded herself.
But Violet’s pale cheeks warmed rosily, and a flash of resentment brightened her languid eyes as she cried:
“I owe grandpapa obedience in everything but the sacrifice of my whole life, Amber. Why, it would be a wicked sin to marry another man, with my heart full of Cecil.”
“But the ‘other man’ is a millionaire, Violet, and Cecil is poor, with only an old name and some ancestral property, that he has no money to keep up properly.”