When Patience had finished she drew on her gloves. “I’ll go,” she said, “and I’ll try to do as you say. I’ve made a fool of myself, but I won’t again—I promise. I can be as cold as stone, you know. That’s the New England part of me. And so long as I know that you care I sha’n’t break down—in public at least.” “Oh, I care fast enough—poor little woman. Here, leave that bag, for heaven’s sake. You mustn’t go back with that.” III When Patience arrived at Peele Manor she knew before she reached the house that her story had been read and told. The gardener turned on his heel as she passed him and walked hastily away. A new stable boy stared at her until she thought his eyes would fly from their sockets. As she entered the front door, Hal ran forward and threw her arms about her. “Oh, Patience! Patience!” she sobbed hysterically. “That brutal paper! How could they do such a thing? Have they no heart nor soul?” “You don’t believe it then?” said Patience, gratefully. “Of course I don’t believe it—believe such a thing of _you_! Oh, I’m so glad you’ve come back. They were all sure you’d run away; but I knew you hadn’t. It is only the guilty that hide—But why on earth did you put on that grey frock?” “Oh, I don’t know. How can one know what one’s doing—What does your father say?” The girls were in one of the small reception-rooms. Hal removed Patience’s hat and gloves. “Oh, this has been the most terrible day of my life,” she said evasively. “But you must be prudent, Patience dear. You must wear black—What is it?” A servant had entered the room. “Mr. Peele would like to see Mrs. Beverly in the library!” Patience rose and shook herself a little, as if she would shake her nerves into place. Hal’s face flushed, and she turned away. As Patience crossed the hall she met Latimer Burr. He held out his hand and pressed hers warmly. “This is terrible, Patience,” he said; “but remember that Hal and I are always your friends. If the worst comes to the worst I’ll send you my attorney. Remember that, and don’t engage any one else, for he’s one of the ablest criminal lawyers in the country.” “Oh, you are good!” she said. She smiled even through the grateful tears which sprang to her eyes. Burr had grown a visible inch. His chest and lips were slightly extended. Mr. Peele sat in a large chair, his elbows on the arms, his finger-tips lightly pressed together. As Patience stood before him she felt as if transfixed by two steel lances. “You murdered my son.” “I did not.” Her courage came back to her under the overt attack.