to the roots of her hair, blank
dismay written upon every feature of her fair face.

"It is true," Mrs. Mencke continued, "and it is wonderful luck for you.
Just think, Violet, what it means to step into such a position! I am
proud of your conquest."

Violet suddenly grew cold and pale as snow.

"Belle, you know it can never be," she began, with white lips, when Mrs.
Mencke interrupted her angrily.

"It can be--it must be--it shall be; for I have given my unqualified
consent to his lordship's proposal," she cried, actually trembling from
excitement.

"Belle, you have not dared to do such a thing! You know that I am
promised to another," the young girl cried with blazing eyes.

A queer look shot over Mrs. Mencke's face at this reply, and she opened
her lips as if to make one sharp, unguarded retort. Then she suddenly
checked herself, and, after a moment, remarked, in a repressed tone:

"You know well enough that that foolish escapade of yours counts for
nothing, and that young Richardson has no right to hold you bound by any
promise you may have impulsively given him from a feeling of gratitude."

"I hold myself bound, nevertheless," Violet returned, with tremulous
lips, "and not from any feeling of gratitude either; but because I love
him with all my heart."

"You shall never marry him," retorted her sister, angrily. "Are you mad
to think of throwing away such a chance as this for a low-born fellow
like that? It is not to be thought of for one moment; and, Violet, you
shall marry Vane Cameron.

"Take care, Belle, you are going a little too far now," Violet cried, a
dangerous flame leaping into her eyes. "I shall not marry Lord Cameron.
I have given my word to Wallace, and I shall abide by it."

"Violet!" cried her sister, sternly, and she was now as white as the
snowy lace about her neck, "there shall be no more of this child's play.
You shall not ruin your life by any such foolishness. What will Vane
Cameron think of me for granting him the permission he craved? It was
equivalent to admitting that he would find no obstacle in his path. What
could you tell him?"

"The truth--that I do not love him; that I do love some one else,"
bravely and steadfastly returned the young girl.

"You shall not! I should die with mortification and disappointment,"
cried Mrs. Mencke, wringing her hands in distress. Then bridling again,
she went on, in an inflexible tone: "I will give you just one week to
reconsider your fol