So the gossip began; and a week later another incident gave it wings. It was a great occasion, the semi-annual ball of the Country Club, and Frank had been warned that Sylvia would not be at home. But he wanted to see her in her glory, and he galloped his twenty miles in darkness and rain, and turned up at the club-house at midnight, and stood in the doorway to watch. Sylvia, seeing him and realizing what his presence meant, was seized with a sudden impulse to acknowledge him. She stopped dancing, and sent her partner away, and stood talking to Frank. Oh, what a staring, what a wagging of tongues! Frank Shirley! Of all people in the world, Frank Shirley! Of course, the news came to the Hall. Early in the morning, Aunt Nannie called up, announcing a visit, and there followed a family conclave with Mrs. Castleman, Aunt Varina and Sylvia. “Sylvia,” said Mrs. Chilton, trying her best to look casual, “I understand that Frank Shirley was at the ball.” “Yes, Aunt Nannie.” There was a pause. “What was he doing there?” asked “Miss Margaret,” evidently having been coached. “Why, I’m sure, Mother, I don’t know.” “Did you invite him?” “Indeed, I did not.” “He isn’t a member of the Club, is he?” “No; but he knows lots of other people who are.” “Everybody is saying he came to see you,” broke in Aunt Nannie. “They say you stopped dancing to talk with him.” “I can’t help what they say, Aunt Nannie.” “Do you think,” inquired the Bishop’s wife, “that it was altogether wise to get your name associated with his?” “Isn’t he a gentleman?” asked Sylvia. “That’s all right, my dear, but you’ve got to remember that you live in the world, and must consider other people’s point of view.” “Do you mean, Aunt Nannie, that Frank Shirley’s to be excluded from society because of his father’s misfortune?” “Not excluded, Sylvia. There are shades to such things. The point is that a young girl—a girl conspicuous, like you——” “But, Aunt Nannie, I asked mother and father, and they were willing to receive him. Isn’t that true, Mother?” “Why, yes, Sylvia,” said “Miss Margaret,” weakly, “but I didn’t mean——” “It was all right for him to come here, once or twice,” interrupted Aunt Nannie. “But at a Club ball——” “The point is, Sylvia dear,” quavered Mrs. Tuis, “you will get yourself a reputation for singularity.” And the mother added, “You surely don’t have to do that to attract attention!” So there it was. All that fine sentiment about the unhappy Shirleys went like a film of mist before a single breath of the world’s opinion! They would not say it brutally—“He’s a convict’s son, and you can’t afford to know him too well.” It was not the Southern fashion—at least among the older generation—to be outspoken in worldliness. They had generous ideals, and made their boast of “chivalry;” but here, when it came to a test, they were all in accord with Aunt Nannie, who was said to “talk like a cold-blooded Northern woman.”