"Very well, indeed, sir," she laughed. "How do you like me, Walter?" Walter looked at the tall, stylish figure, and the fair, smiling face with its large blue eyes and rosy lips, with genuine admiration. "I do not believe any other fellow has as pretty a sister as I have," he replied, and Violet gave him a charming kiss in return for his praise. "Where have you been, Walter?" she said. "We have missed you all the evening. Mr. Valchester was quite puzzled, but I could very nearly guess--only I did not let him know it." Walter had thrown himself down in a chair at the window. The rich lace curtains were drawn aside, admitting the evening breeze, sweet with the breath of flowers. He stared moodily out at the full moon rising over the dark line of the distant hills. "Where have you been, Walter?" said Violet again, seeing that he made her no answer. "Were you with Jaquelina?" "Yes," he replied, with cold brevity. Violet went over and sat down by his side. She raised her fair, smiling face to his in wonder. She saw the brooding shadow of pain on the blonde, handsome face. "Walter, what is it? Has--has anything happened?" she said, vaguely. "Nothing has happened," he replied, in a moody tone. "Was Jaquelina well?" she asked, puzzled. "Never better," he replied, with transient bitterness. Violet did not know what to think. "Walter, was not Lina kind to you?" she asked, gently. "No," he replied, briefly and bitterly. The soft flush had faded from Violet's cheeks. A look of dread came into her eyes, but Walter did not see it. He had never turned his sad gaze from the distant hills gilded with glory by the rising moon. "Walter, do you mean," she said, with lips that quivered strangely, "that--you have asked Lina to marry you?" "Yes," he answered, very low. "And she--oh, she did not refuse you!" cried Violet, indignantly. "Yes, again," said Walter, still without looking at her. There was a moment's pause, and then Violet cried out: "The impertinent little jade! Why, what did she mean? I should have thought that she would have jumped at the chance of marrying a rich, handsome young man like you, Walter!" Then Walter looked round at her. "Violet, do not use such hasty words," he said, sadly. "She has a right to make her own choice. She has set her mark higher even than your unworthy brother." "You do not mean," said Violet slowly, then paused, while every vestige of color fled from her lips and cheeks as she stared at Walter. "She is engaged to Valchester," he answered, abruptly. The words came with the suddenness of a blow. Violet shivered and moaned like something wounded to death; then all in a moment she slid from her seat to the floor, and lay there, a white and senseless heap, upon the rich velvet carpet.