“It was best that he should know it, Violet, so that he might be roused to a sense of your danger. Grandpapa is a cruel, violent old man, and almost loses his reason when thwarted in any darling plan. He is determined that Violet shall marry this proud millionaire, and if she continues to defy his commands, I tremble for her very life!” shuddered Amber, acting her part so superbly that no one could doubt that she loved and pitied Violet with real cousinly affection.
Ah, Heaven defend the noble heart from insidious foes, who work in the dark—foes, who, in the guise of friendship, smile in the face, with a hidden sword in the hand! Of all enemies these are the most to be feared and scorned.
There is something brave at least in open defiance and enmity, but the soul recoils from the foe in ambush, from lying lips and deceitful hearts!
She, the beautiful traitress, watched Cecil’s bitter wrath with secret satisfaction, knowing that it would bend him more easily to her plans.
“That old man, to dare to strike you, my Violet! It is incredible! But he shall suffer for his villainy. I will challenge him to fight. I—I—will kill him!” raved Cecil, in sudden, deadly anger, his eyes flashing luridly.
“Oh, no, no, no, dear Cecil, you must not harm that old man—you shall not! I forgive him freely!” cried Violet in terror.
“No, you must not harm him,” added Amber, “you must not wreak revenge on our grandfather; you must simply take measures to remove Violet beyond reach of his fatal anger.”
His face paled with despair, and he cried, wretchedly:
“Ah, Heaven, what can I do? Judge Camden will not give his consent to our marriage, and as she is his ward still, she could not marry me without.”
“But you can elope with Violet,” cried Amber, boldly.