Smith's mind was not of an analytical nature; in fact, he did not think their presence was attributable to anything other than a mother's natural heart-breaking longing to recover her darling as swiftly as possible, and in the enterprise Virginia had joined her. And as he thought of the indifference and cruel desertion of John Thorpe with her child, for whom she had made such a sacrifice, a solemn, serious look of sadness gathered on his face and deepened into contempt and anger. And the compassion in his heart welled up and at length broke from between his lips, in unconscious mutterings. "Sure, he tuk her darlint from her an' left her lyin' there, too, so he do, on the hard flure, wid her sinses gone out from her hid complately. The heartless man!" "The trouble between them is serious," Sam replied, as he knelt down beside Virginia and commenced to chafe her hands. "Sure, don't I know it, so I do!" rejoined Smith, as he followed Sam's example and set to chafing Constance's hands between his own. "An' he's broke her heart entirely, so he ave," he went on, "an' her hands do be numb wid no life in thim at all." Then he was silent for a time and worked industriously to bring back into her hands the warmth that had fled. Suddenly he asked Sam in an eager, anxious whisper, "Do yees belave she'd do wrong?" "No!" Sam promptly replied. "Naither do I. Indade she's as swate an' innocint a lady as wan ave hivin's angels. Sure, she cudn't do wrong at all, at all." "Not at all!" responded Sam gravely. "An' the mister shud ave better sinse than to trate her so unkind, don't yees think so now?" "Thorpe is a damned fool, I guess!" Sam answered gloomily. "Indade, I do belave it, too, so I do!" Again there was silence. Again it was broken by Smith, who said in a low, confidential tone: "I'll tell yees, I belave it do be some attracious divil ave come betwain thim." "You do!" Sam snapped at him, as though he interpreted Smith's allusion a direct reference to Virginia. "Indade I do, so I do!" "Why do you think so?" Sam asked, a tinge of annoyance at Smith's persistence still appearing in the manner of asking. "Isn't she an angel? An' it's only the divil cud sipporate an angel from her husband. Sure, man, dear, what more do yees want to prove it?" A twitching of Virginia's eyelids at that moment caught Sam's attention. It was nature's first harbinger of approaching consciousness. He held up his hand for Smith to be silent. The twitching, however, ceased, and her eyelid remaining closed, again became motionless.