“I was afraid of your just wrath, when you should find out how I had played fast and loose with Philip and Florian. The future looked as black as a stormy night without a star. In the desperation of my wounded love and pride, I went out to seek death rather than face the cruel morrow. Do you remember, papa, where I should be now had not Rolfe Maxwell’s hand been outstretched to save me? You would be standing over my coffin now, weeping over my mutilated beauty, crying: ‘Alas! poor Viola!’” Her voice broke in tears at the pathetic picture, poor Viola, who had always loved life so dearly and thought it so beautiful, though for one mad moment she had been tempted to cast it away. Judge Van Lew would not give way to weakness. He answered, gruffly: “I am weeping over you now in my heart, Viola, over the wreck you have made of your life.” “Do not say so,” she answered, bravely. “It is not so bad, papa. Is he not very handsome and clever? And he has shown himself most noble. Why, if I cast him off now I should be the most ungrateful girl in the world!” “Yon can be as grateful to him as you please, but you need not give him your life as a sacrifice. I tell you, Viola, I will not have this poor and obscure young man for a son-in-law when you can have your pick of the richest and most distinguished! You shall apply for a divorce as soon as I can prepare the papers.” “And I tell you that I will not, papa; so you had just as well let me go back to my husband’s home and wait for him there in peace!” his daughter cried, with kindling cheeks. “You are insane, Viola. I have permitted you to have your own way till you are going mad with silly caprices. But I will no longer humor your whims. I tell you now, and I mean it, that you shall give up Rolfe Maxwell or remain a prisoner in this house until you come to your senses!” stormed the judge, now thoroughly enraged at her stubbornness. But Viola had a will of her own, too, and it flashed into her eyes as she cried, bitterly: “I defy your power!” His answer was to stalk out of the room, banging the door in wrath, and not forgetting to lock it after him and deliver the key to the tearful Mrs. Herman, who did not know what to do between her brother and her niece, thus playing at cross purposes. What the outcome of their feud might have been had Viola remained well, none could tell, for kind Aunt Edwina found the poor girl presently in a high fever, her cheeks scarlet, her eyes glaring, while delirious murmurs babbled over her parched lips. A physician was hastily summoned, who declared that Viola was in the first stages of brain fever. The terrible excitement of the past two days had culminated in illness of the most dangerous type. The sensation caused in the social world by her remarkable elopement gave place to the excitement of her illness and the report that death was about to claim her for its own.