She gazed at him coldly. “It was wholesale,” she said, with withering contempt. The colonel shook with silent laughter. All this time Diana had not opened her lips; she stepped down from the piazza into the grass now and unfurled her parasol. “I hope you’re not going to make my unfortunate grandfather a reason for inviting Caleb Trench here,” said Mrs. Eaton bitingly, her eyes fixed on the colonel’s flushed face. “Cousin Jinny, he won’t come,” said Diana suddenly. Both her father and Mrs. Eaton looked at her astonished. “How do you know?” the latter asked unconvinced. “I asked him,” said Diana, and blushed. Mrs. Eaton was amazed. “You asked that man--that person--and he refused your invitation?” “Yes,” replied Diana, scarlet now. Her elderly cousin dropped her hands helplessly in her lap. “Diana Royall, I’m ashamed of you!” “I was ashamed of myself,” said Diana. The colonel rubbed the back of his head thoughtfully. “I reckon he had a reason, Di,” he said at last. “I have a reason for not asking him again,” replied his daughter. “Thank heaven!” ejaculated Mrs. Eaton devoutly. The girl turned away and walked slowly across the lawn. Two of the setters followed her half-way, but, unencouraged, fell back lazily to lie in the cool grass. As she went the murmur of indignant voices died away, and she passed into the cool shadow of the horse-chestnuts. Her face still burned with the blush of vexation that Mrs. Eaton had summoned, and her heart beat a little faster at the thought that she had never asked any man to accept their hospitality before in vain. It was preposterous and rude, yet, in her heart, she respected Caleb Trench for refusing it. Even at Kitty Broughton’s ball he had been accepted only on tolerance and because of Judge Hollis. She had seen him slighted, and then the prejudice had been against his poor little shop at the village Cross-Roads and his black Republicanism, in a section that was rankly Democratic. Now they had a greater cause, the Cresset speech, the attacks upon Eaton, the duel at Little Neck Meadow--of which no one could get the truth, for no one knew socially Peter Mahan or Aaron Todd--and last of all the scandal of the child. The story of poor Jean Bartlett had passed from lip to lip now that Sammy played on the door-step of the most unique figure in local politics.