Amid raining tears Viola made a selection, then rose to go, begging Mae to accompany her for a short drive.
The young girl hesitated, then looked inquiringly at her aunt.
“Go, dear; it will do you good,” Mrs. Maxwell answered, encouragingly, for Viola’s fascination had already fallen over both. She was queen of hearts still, in all her woe.
Mae hurried to her chamber, and quickly returned in a dark-blue gown wondrously becoming to her delicate blonde beauty and the rich sheen of her golden hair under the nodding black plumes of her hat.
“How lovely you are, sweet cousin!” cried Viola, wondering how Rolfe’s heart had been proof against such beauty and sweetness.
Kissing Mrs. Maxwell a loving adieu, Viola returned to the carriage with lovely Mae, and gave the order:
“Drive at once to the studio of Mr. Florian Gay.”
CHAPTER XXIX.
ALIENATION.
How sad it is to see the waning of a beautiful friendship between two noble hearts—friendship that should have lasted unbroken till death—to see the cold blight of alienation creeping in between those hearts day by day, till naught is left of those old, sweet emotions but the sadness of memory more cruel than forgetfulness.