"Take care, Belle, you are going a little too far now," Violet cried, a dangerous flame leaping into her eyes. "I shall not marry Lord Cameron.
I have given my word to Wallace, and I shall abide by it."
"Violet!" cried her sister, sternly, and she was now as white as the snowy lace about her neck, "there shall be no more of this child"s play.
You shall not ruin your life by any such foolishness. What will Vane Cameron think of me for granting him the permission he craved? It was equivalent to admitting that he would find no obstacle in his path. What could you tell him?"
"The truth--that I do not love him; that I do love some one else,"
bravely and steadfastly returned the young girl.
"You shall not! I should die with mortification and disappointment,"
cried Mrs. Mencke, wringing her hands in distress. Then bridling again, she went on, in an inflexible tone: "I will give you just one week to reconsider your folly; I will intimate to Lord Cameron that you are a little shy of the subject--that it will be just as well for him not to speak for perhaps a couple of weeks; but--hear me, Violet--if you refuse to come to my terms at the end of that time, I will take you to France and shut you up in a convent, where you shall stay until you will solemnly promise me that you will give up your miserable Yankee lover."
She turned and abruptly left the room without giving Violet a chance to reply.
Violet stood still a moment, looking wretched enough to break one"s heart; then throwing herself upon her bed, she gave way to a pa.s.sion of tears and sobbing.
"Oh, Wallace, where are you?" she moaned, "why don"t you write to me? I feel as if I was being led into a trap, and"--with a sudden light seeming to burst upon her--"I believe they have been intercepting our letters, for I know that you would be faithful to me. Oh, I am homesick for you, and now that Belle and Will have come I know they will not let me go back at the end of three months. What shall I do? Of course I cannot marry Lord Cameron, and I shall tell him the truth if he asks me."
She lay for a long time trying to think of some way out of her troubles.
At last, when she had become more calm, she arose, exchanged her beautiful evening dress for a wrapper, and then wrote a long letter to Wallace, telling him all about her perplexity and suspicions, begging him to send her some news of himself and to address his letter to Nellie.
Not having received any of his letters, she of course did not know that he had removed from Cincinnati; therefore she directed her letter as usual, and, of course, he never got it; although she slyly posted it in the letter-box on one of the public buildings of the city while she was out sight-seeing the next day.
At the end of a week Mrs. Mencke sought Violet and renewed the subject of Vane Cameron"s proposal.
"I wish you would let me alone about that, Belle," the young girl responded, wearily. "It is useless for you to try to change my decision--my word is pledged to Wallace, and only death will ever release me from it, for if I live to go home I shall redeem it."
"That is your ultimatum, is it?" demanded her sister, with a face as hard as adamant.
"Yes."
"Then you oblige me to communicate a fact which, for several reasons, I should have preferred to withhold from you," said Mrs. Mencke, bending a strange look upon her.
"What do you mean?" Violet inquired, startled by her manner.
"Death has released you from your promise to that fellow. Read that,"
was the stunning reply, as the woman drew a paper from her pocket, and, laying it before Violet, pointed to a marked paragraph.
"Belle!" came in a low, shuddering voice from the blanched lips of the beautiful girl before her, as she seemed instinctively to know what was printed here.
"Read," commanded Mrs. Mencke, relentlessly.
With hands that shook like leaves in the wind, Violet picked up the paper. It was the Cincinnati _Times-Star_, and she read with a look of horror on her young face:
Died, on the 28th instant, Wallace Richardson, aged 23 years and 6 months.
The next moment a piercing shriek rang through the room, and Violet lay stretched senseless at her sister"s feet.
"Heavens! I did not think she would take it to heart like this," cried the now thoroughly frightened woman, as she threw herself upon her knees beside the motionless girl and began to loosen her clothing and chafe her hands.
That heart-broken cry had been heard in the adjoining room, and Mrs.
Hawley and Nellie came rushing upon the scene to ascertain the cause of it.
They a.s.sisted in getting Violet to bed, and a physician was immediately sent for.
"She has had some sudden and violent shock," he said at once, while he regarded Mrs. Mencke searchingly.
"Yes," she confessed, with as much composure as her guilty conscience would allow her to a.s.sume; "she read an account of the death of a--a friend, in an American paper."
"Hem!" was the medical man"s brief comment, as he again turned his attention to his patient, whom, it was evident, he considered to be in a critical state.
It was long before he could restore suspended animation, and even then Violet did not come back to consciousness; fever followed, and she began to rave in the wildest delirium.
"It"s going to be a neck-and-neck race between life and death," the doctor frankly told her friends, "and you must be vigilant and patient."
This unforeseen calamity, of course, put an end to all gayety.
It was thought best that Nellie should at once repair to Milan, and Mrs.
Hawley left two days later to see her safely and comfortably settled at her work, after which she returned to London to a.s.sist Mrs. Mencke in the care of her sister.
It was more than a month before Violet was p.r.o.nounced out of danger; and then, as soon as she was able to sit up, the physician advised a change of climate; a few weeks at Mentone, he thought, would do her good.
The poor girl looked as if a rude breath would quench what little life she had, and Mrs. Mencke, who still secretly clung to the hope of affecting an alliance between her and Lord Cameron, was anxious to do everything to build her up; consequently she immediately posted off with her invalid to that far-famed resort. She had a private interview first, however, with his lordship, from whom the real cause of Violet"s illness had been kept a profound secret, and promised to send for him just as soon as her sister was able to see him.
The mild and genial atmosphere of Mentone produced a favorable change in the invalid immediately. Her appet.i.te improved, and with it strength and something of her natural color.
But the child was pitifully sad--heart-broken. Nothing appeared to interest her, and she seemed to live from day to day only because nature was stronger than her grief.
She never spoke of Wallace, nor referred to the fact that her illness had been caused by the dreadful tidings of his death. She was patient, gentle, and submissive, doing whatever she was told to do, simply because it was easier than to resist, and, as she slowly but surely gained, Mrs. Mencke told herself that the way was clear to the consummation of her ambitious hopes.
A month pa.s.sed thus, and then Vane Cameron appeared upon the scene, having been summoned by an encouraging letter from Violet"s sister.
CHAPTER XII.
"YOU HAVE GIVEN YOUR PROMISE AND YOU MUST STAND BY IT."
When Mrs. Mencke informed Violet of the arrival of the Earl of Sutherland, something of her old spirit manifested itself for the first time since her illness.
"Did you send for him, Belle?" she demanded, an ominous flash leaping into her heavy eyes.
The woman colored. She did not like to confess that she had done so, but such was the fact, nevertheless.
"Why, Violet, you forget how anxious Lord Cameron would naturally be regarding the state of your health," she answered, evasively; "besides, he has waited a long time for the answer to a certain proposal, and doubtless he is impatient for that."
"He shall have it," the young girl returned, with sudden animation, a crimson flush suffusing her cheeks. "Send for him to come directly here, and I will give it at once."