“Cecil be—hanged!” returned the old man, violently.
“Then you entirely ignore his claim on Violet?”
“I ignore it utterly! Now look here, my girl,” and he wheeled around on her, wrathfully, “if you come to me to wheedle me into consenting to the affair between Violet and that fortune-hunting Cecil Grant, you’re wasting words, let me tell you, and also making matters worse for yourself! I won’t be interfered with, I tell you squarely; and you will mind your own business if you know which side your bread is buttered on, miss!”
“Yes, sir,” meekly.
“So now, if you’re satisfied, you can go back and tell Violet what I said, and leave me in peace to read my papers!”
“I’m not satisfied yet, sir,” demurely.
“The mischief you are not? But I won’t hear another word, I tell you—not another word! And mind you, Amber, I may leave you out of my will if you persist in meddling with my business,” furiously.
Amber smiled slyly at his perturbation, and answered in a low, deep, and measured voice:
“Grandpapa, you are more hasty than wise. You have simply jumped at the conclusion that I came here to plead my cousin’s cause.”
He stared at her in amazement and exclaimed: