Warrington smiled a meaning smile.
“We will not discuss that question now, my dear,” he said, softly. “The business in hand is this: There is something connected with the past—with your mother’s past—which, if it were known, would ruin you. Nobody knows this secret but myself. I swear to keep it a secret forever, on the condition already named—that you consent to marry me and share the Arleigh fortune with ‘yours truly.’”
“I will die first!”
“Ah! Very well. But you will never marry Leonard Yorke, all the same, my dear; and you will be sorry, I am sure, to have your dead mother’s name upon the lips of everybody, coupled with dishonor.”
“Dishonor? My mother? You villain!”
Violet moved swiftly over to the door and threw it open.
“Go!” she panted, in a low, tense tone, her voice full of dangerous meaning, her eyes blazing.
He stood staring into her pale face for a moment, then drew a little nearer her, and his voice was low and ominous as he hissed, vengefully:
“I will prove it to you, Miss Violet Arleigh!” he cried. “Rosamond Arleigh was a base woman—a——”
But Violet, unable to bear any more, stepped quickly past him through the open door, and hastening down the hall, left the house without a word. Her heart was beating tumultuously, her eyes shone with a wild light, her breath was coming thick and fast.