The burning crimson flooded Amber’s olive cheeks and brow to the edges of her beautiful hair at this coarse jeer, but, with an effort, she kept back a stinging retort, and answered, calmly:
“If you mean that Cecil Grant was my lover first, and that Violet stole him from me, you are right; and, in the face of that humiliation, do you think I would lower myself to plead their cause with you?”
“No, not if you inherit any of your grandfather’s spirit, Amber!” chuckled the wicked old judge, with returning good humor.
“Well, I have been told that I resemble you in many things, grandpapa,” returned Amber, smilingly, and indeed she did have the same sparkling hazel eyes and determined mouth as well as the fiery temper of the old man.
“Yes, yes, you are a chip off the old block, Amber, and Violet always favored her scape-grace father too much to please me. Not that she isn’t the prettiest girl in the world; but those dark-blue eyes of hers have the same look of the scamp’s that lured my Marie from me,” angrily. “But, Amber, you said you could help me. How?”
“I have a clever plan of my own to betray Violet into a marriage with Harold Castello. You know, grandpapa, in spite of all your bluster, that you cannot force Violet into this marriage against her will. The law is against you.”
“Violet isn’t eighteen yet, and I can command her obedience until she becomes of age,” he answered, frowningly.
But Amber laughed softly, and replied:
“She could appeal to the law against your authority if you asserted it in the arbitrary manner you propose. You are a lawyer, and you know well that your rights over Violet do not permit you to drive her into an unwilling marriage. And there are her father’s kin also to consider. Suppose she appeals to them, and they come forward to protect her from you.”
“I shall take care to keep her from communicating with them,” he replied, grimly.