“I thank you more than I can say, but I could never accept such a gift from you, my noble friend,” he answered. “Then, Cecil, let me lend you the money, to be repaid at your leisure! You can at least accept this favor from one whom, next to Violet, you have promised a place in your heart.” “Do not speak to me of Violet. Let me forget her fatal mistake if I can, in the distress of this other calamity!” he cried, feverishly. “I will not breathe that false girl’s name to you again, my poor, unhappy Cecil; but I insist upon lending you the money. I shall be wounded if you refuse it,” persisted Amber. But to all of her urgings, Cecil Grant returned a grateful refusal, assuring her that the offer had placed him under as heavy obligations to her as if he had accepted it. “I shall not consider the matter settled to-night. Take time to think it over, Cecil, and perhaps you will change your mind and accept my offer. In the meantime, I shall scold grandpapa roundly for his wicked revenge, and try to make him revoke the foreclosure. And now good-night, my dear, dear friend; and remember that one heart aches for your sorrow, and sympathizes with your distress,” cried treacherous Amber, as they parted, he to return to his unhappy mother, she to rejoice with her grandfather over their signal victory. CHAPTER XXIV. “WHY AM I SO WRETCHEDLY UNHAPPY?” Amber had prosecuted all but one of her schemes to a successful fulfillment, but Harold Castello had not been so fortunate. His greatest task lay before him in the near future. He had secured an unwilling bride by strategy--he had now the even more difficult task of holding his prize and winning her heart. That heart belonged to another man. How could he wrest it from his keeping? He knew well that Violet’s faith in her lover’s fidelity was too strongly anchored to be disturbed by any falsehoods he could invent. His momentary triumph as he rode away with the duped girl by his side, was mixed with anxiety over the thought of the recognition that would soon take place on Violet’s part, and the exciting scene that would follow. Violet was still sobbing in her corner of the carriage, in a low, hysterical fashion, seeming oblivious of her new-made husband’s presence, and in truth she had not experienced one throb of the sweet elation natural to a young bride’s heart. Instead, there was a leaden weight of woe on her spirits, and touching all her thoughts with grim despair. Harold Castello drew close to the young girl’s side, slipped his arm about her waist, and clasped her close, so that the golden head nestled against his shoulder, and he could feel the quick pulsations of her heart as she rested so near him. He did not speak, fearing that he might not so successfully disguise his voice as he had done in the church.