“Amber told me to-night that you loved me no longer--that your heart had turned to her again! Oh, Cecil, it almost killed me to hear that you were false and fickle. When Amber left me alone in the room, I stole away to end my sorrows in the river, here by the bending willows, where you first said you loved me.” He wondered if Amber had indeed been so false and deceitful as Violet declared, and, holding her tightly in his arms, as though to defend her from death itself, he told her that she had been wickedly deceived, that Amber was false and perjured. “She knows well how fondly I love you,” he cried, indignantly. “I told her of my love and anxiety every evening when she came to bring me news of you, pretending to be my sincere friend. But I will never trust her again. As for you, my own sweet love, I must take you back to the house again; but before we go, you must tell me that you doubt me no longer--that you will never lose faith in your own true love again. Let me put this little ring on your finger, precious. It is an opal, and is gifted with the power to show whether plighted lovers keep their faith. If false, the gem will grow dull and lifeless, its brightness all gone; but, if true, it will glow with the fiery hues of the furnace. Wear it always, my darling, and let it be the test of my love till the happy day that unites us forever.” “Alas,” she sighed, “do you not know, dear Cecil, that my grandfather has sworn I shall wed another?” He kissed the little hand on which he had placed the ring, and answered, fondly: “Yes; Amber Laurens told me that, Violet; but I was not discouraged, for they cannot force you into a marriage against your will. Only get well and be true to me, my pet, and we will defy the old tyrant, will we not, my bonny bride?” She clung to him with a murmur of such infinite love and content that he longed to take her in his arms and fly away with her to some great stronghold, where he could defy the grim old judge’s authority, even now; but he knew that it could not be, that every moment out here in the chilly night air made it more certain that she would have a relapse of her illness. He must carry her back to her sick-bed, to those who had cared for her so carelessly as to make this dreadful escapade possible. But he resolved to rebuke them in scathing terms for their neglect of duty. With an aching heart he took Violet up in his arms, holding her easily, as if she had been a child, and so carried her back to Golden Willows and the stern old judge, who was raising a terrible storm outdoors, seeking for Violet, whom Mrs. Shirley had but just now missed from her bed. The hue and cry of search had just begun, and Amber was the center of a group who listened eagerly as she vehemently reiterated that she had left Violet only a moment to get her a fresh drink, and, on returning, found the invalid gone and Mrs. Shirley alone in the room.