PLANNING THE ELOPEMENT.
Only an adoring lover can realize how Cecil waited for Amber the next
afternoon, hoping and praying that Violet would be her companion.
But he was doomed to disappointment.
When the pretty little phaeton came in sight, Amber was sitting in it
all alone, with a grave and thoughtful expression on her brilliant face.
“You are disappointed, I know, but it was impossible for me to bring
Violet,” she cried, inwardly writhing at the sadness of his face.
“I am sure it was not your fault,” he replied, trying to stifle his
pain, and speak cheerfully.
“No, indeed, but something has happened that has set grandpapa quite
wild. Can you guess what?”
“Violet is not ill again? Don’t tell me that, Amber,” he cried,
anxiously, his thoughts flying in terror to his darling.
“No, no, it is not that, Cecil. Violet is well, and wanted to come with
me, but grandpapa made her stay at home to entertain--Harold Castello.”
“So he has come?” Cecil cried out, jealously.
“Yes, just an hour ago; and really, Cecil, he is a formidable rival.”
“Handsome, eh?” he asked, trying to speak lightly.
“He is magnificent. Dark as a Spaniard--in fact, grandpapa told me he
inherited a strain of Spanish blood--and with the most winning manners,
and a low, musical voice,” returned Amber, dwelling at length on
Harold Castello’s perfections in order to arouse the demon of jealousy
in Cecil’s heart.
She had suffered all the agonies of jealous love herself, and desired
that Cecil also should have a taste of that exquisite torture.
She knew well that Cecil Grant was as handsome and even more attractive
than Harold Castello, but it suited her purpose to expatiate on the
new-comer.
“If Violet were as fickle as some girls I have known, I should tremble
for your chances, Cecil,” she continued, banteringly. “He is very
fascinating, this man, and so rich, too. Of course that would count
with many girls.”
“Not with my true-hearted Violet!” he cried, proudly.
She assented, carelessly saying:
“No, for Violet is very romantic, and fancies that love and poverty
combined will be very charming. I wonder how she will find the reality.”
There was a hidden sneer in the words that he vaguely felt, and his
cheek flushed as he said:
“It is very noble in Violet to be content with my poverty. But I feel
that fortune will one day change for me, and then she shall have all
the luxuries of life!”
“Will you drive with me a little way while I unfold my plans for the
elopement?” she asked; and when he was seated by her side, driving
along the sandy road, with the low murmur of the river in their ears,
she continued:
“Violet and I talked it over a long time last night, and decided on a
plan, if it meets your approval.”
He listened to her eagerly without speaking.
“To begin with,” continued Amber, “Violet and I used to know a young
divinity student in Alexandria, who now has a church in Washington.
She would like this young minister, Wesley Christian, to perform the
ceremony, if agreeable to you.”
“Violet’s wishes are always mine,” he replied, with the gallantry of a
true lover.
“Well, that is settled,” said Amber. “Now we will go on to the next
point, the elopement.”
“Yes.”
“It must take place to-morrow evening, for the day afterward is the one
set for the marriage of Violet to the millionaire.”
“One word, Amber. This young man, this rich suitor for Violet’s hand,
does he know that she is averse to his suit? Is he willing to accept an
unwilling bride?”
“Grandpapa says that he knows all, and is willing to take Violet on any
terms, feeling confident that he can win her heart after marriage.”
“He is a dastard!” cried Cecil, with kindling anger.
“Granted,” replied Amber, with a peculiar smile, and then she
added: “But he is madly in love with her, and, being backed by her
grandfather, is naturally eager to win the prize. So our only defense
against him is to steal Violet away.”
“But how to do so under that old man’s watchful eyes?” he groaned.
“It is a difficult undertaking, but I hope to accomplish it,” she
smiled, confidently.
“How clever you are, Amber!” he cried, gratefully.
“Thank you!” she beamed, happily. “Now listen, Cecil.”
“I am all attention!”
“I have written to Wesley Christian, taken him into our confidence,
and appointed seven o’clock to-morrow evening as the time, and his own
little chapel as the place for the ceremony.”
“Yes.”
Amber continued:
“Violet is to be very gracious to Monsieur Millionaire to-morrow, so
that when I beg grandpapa to let her go for a drive with me, he will
consent. Then we will drive straight to Washington in the phaeton. You
will come by train and meet us at St. Paul’s, you understand. After the
ceremony you and Violet will start on a little wedding tour, while I
return home alone.”
“But it will be late and cool for driving back alone through the
woods,” he objected, thinking of her comfort.
“I shall not be afraid--not in the least. I shall be thinking all the
while of the good deed I have accomplished in uniting two persecuted
lovers. And now, Cecil, here is the card of Rev. Mr. Christian, with
his church address. You cannot fail to find it, and success is ours,
unless grandpapa follows with a shot-gun,” ended Amber, with a light,
rippling laugh.