“You have had an interview with Mr. Castello. Perhaps his handsome face and the splendid diamonds he gave you, combined with his ardent pleadings, have caused your heart to waver between him and Cecil,” continued Amber, in a bantering tone.
Violet looked at her reproachfully and cried:
“How can you dream of such a thing, Amber? I hate the man and his jewels. Grandpapa forced me to go down and see him, but I told him candidly how much I hated him, and that I would rather die than marry him!”
“But he did not withdraw his suit for your hand?”
“No,” Violet answered, with a deep and heavy sigh, and again turned her eyes toward the sky with a sorrowful look, while she restlessly turned the opal ring upon her finger.
Amber’s eyes watched the gleaming jewel with interest and presently she said:
“I am sorry you feel so blue, my dear, but I suppose it is the suspense of waiting that makes you so nervous. But it is several hours yet before we can start for Washington, so I will beguile your impatience by telling you the story of the opal ring you wear.”
“Has it really a story, Amber?” the girl asked, listlessly.
“Yes, a very thrilling one. If I were a novelist, I could make a charming story of it; but I have no talent that way, so I must put it in plain words.”
Violet’s sad eyes began to look brighter. Everything about the Grants interested her, because she loved Cecil so dearly.