CHAPTER VIII.
“HEAVEN’S BLESSING COULD NOT FALL ON SUCH A MARRIAGE.”
Amber had been gone but a moment when Judge Camden entered the room.
He frowned darkly when he saw how Violet’s lips were quivering, and how the tears were stealing down her pale cheeks.
“I met Amber coming out. What has she said to cause those tears?” he asked, curtly.
Violet answered, heart-brokenly:
“She has been telling me of the letters and flowers dear Cecil sent me while I was sick and which you returned to him with unkind messages.”
“Tut, tut! Amber is a wretched little tell-tale, but I don’t care, Violet, for the sooner you realize that you can never have Cecil Grant, the better for all concerned!”
Violet did not answer a word. She remembered shudderingly the cruel blow he had struck her before, and which had caused her almost fatal illness. She could only listen in despairing silence while the judge continued, sternly:
“I hope you will listen peaceably to what I have come to say this morning.”
She bowed her golden head in silent acquiescence, but saying to herself that, no matter what he should say, she would die before she would marry any one but her darling Cecil.