He frowned darkly when he saw how Violet’s lips were quivering, and how the tears were stealing down her pale cheeks. “I met Amber coming out. What has she said to cause those tears?” he asked, curtly. Violet answered, heart-brokenly: “She has been telling me of the letters and flowers dear Cecil sent me while I was sick and which you returned to him with unkind messages.” “Tut, tut! Amber is a wretched little tell-tale, but I don’t care, Violet, for the sooner you realize that you can never have Cecil Grant, the better for all concerned!” Violet did not answer a word. She remembered shudderingly the cruel blow he had struck her before, and which had caused her almost fatal illness. She could only listen in despairing silence while the judge continued, sternly: “I hope you will listen peaceably to what I have come to say this morning.” She bowed her golden head in silent acquiescence, but saying to herself that, no matter what he should say, she would die before she would marry any one but her darling Cecil. “You know, Violet, that you owe me the obedience of a daughter. I have cared for you all your life, and but for me you would have had a hard life enough among those beggarly Meads, your father’s relations.” “Grandpapa, I am very grateful for your kindness, indeed I am; but I must insist that you will not speak so contemptuously of my father’s people,” interposed Violet, with a sweet and gentle dignity. “And why not, sauce-box? Your father was a scamp, no doubt of that. Besides, didn’t I tell you to listen quietly, and not answer me back?” Violet sighed and relapsed into silence, though her cheeks burned with anger at the insulting mention of her dead father. She knew that his blind prejudice against the young soldier, who had run off with his youngest daughter, made him exaggerate all his faults. “Well, as I was saying to you that night, my girl, your mother disappointed all my hopes; but I swear that you shall not. I’ve picked out a rich husband for you, and I want you to accept my choice like a good girl,” cajolingly. “Why, almost any girl would jump at the chance of such a husband--young, rich, and loving!” “But, grandpapa, I have never even seen him. How can he love me?” “He has seen you, although he didn’t tell me where, and he thinks you are the rarest beauty in the world--just worships the ground you walk on! He will settle a fortune on you the day that you marry him. Violet, think of that, my dear!” She shuddered with disgust, and cried out, tremblingly: “I cannot sell myself for gold.” And suddenly she fell at his feet and lifted her imploring blue eyes to his face. “Oh, do let me speak to you one moment,” she cried. “It is a wicked thing you urge me to do, grandpapa, to marry one man while my heart is full of love for another. The blessings of Heaven could not fall on such a sinful marriage.”