Amber smiled, gayly, as she answered:
“Those are almost the very same words that Cecil said to me about you this morning, and I have been racking my brain to invent a plan, for, oh! I feel so sorry for you both!”
“You are so good, Amber. I can never thank you enough. Oh, may Heaven soon send you a lover as noble and handsome as my Cecil!”
“You have wished that before, Violet,” laughed Amber.
“And I could not make a better wish for you, dear; for I believe that love is the sweetest thing in life.”
“And the bitterest when unrequited,” Amber answered, in so harsh a tone that Violet started in affright and cried out:
“Oh, I—I forgot! You—you once loved—Cecil, very dearly! But oh, I think, I hope, you have got over it, dear Amber, have you not?”
“Oh, yes, of course, Violet! It is so easy to get over a slighted love, you know,” laughed Amber, with a bitterness she could scarcely conceal, while to her throbbing heart she cried:
“How I will torture pretty golden-haired Violet for those words some day! I will pay her back pang for pang all the pain that I have suffered.”
And she was willing to give her some little happiness now, because in the future Violet would feel the contrast more keenly between fleeting bliss and endless despair.