"From the way those two, Berk and Mr. Jeffreys, acted." "And that is why you wanted to consult Judge Goldsborough?" "Yes, that was why." "But he says there is not a shred of proof." "He said so at first. Later, he was not so sure but there might be complications." "I understand." Linda was silent for some time; then she spoke again, following out her thoughts: "Aunt Ri, do you think that is why Berk has avoided me? Do you think he has known all this time?" Miss Ri hesitated before she made answer. "It may be that, Verlinda." Linda gave a little sigh. "I am sorry he had to feel that way about it. I wouldn't have blamed him, for he was not to blame, was he? He couldn't help it." "Not unless he chose to be disloyal to Mr. Jeffreys and dishonorable altogether." "And that he could never be. We know that, don't we, Aunt Ri? Shall we see his sister and mother, do you think?" "I am sure we shall. I wrote to Mrs. Matthews that we were coming." No more was said on the subject just then; but, in thinking it over in the seclusion of her room, it dawned upon Miss Ri that Linda was much more concerned for Berkley's part in the transaction than in her own loss of the property. "Well," she exclaimed, sitting down to face the situation, "this is a revelation. How on earth is it going to end now, I'd like to know." CHAPTER XVII AS WATER UNTO WINE The time passed as gaily as Miss Ri meant it should: in receiving and returning calls, in a little sight-seeing, in shopping, lunching, dining, a moderate amount of theatre-going. There was a visit to the old low-roofed, grey-shingled market one Saturday evening, when the Goldsborough girls, with their governess, begged Miss Ri and Linda to join them in a frolic. "We want to buy taffy," they said, "and see the funny people. Do go with us; it will be so jolly." The expedition was quite to Miss Ri's taste and, that Linda might have the experience, she urged the going. A merry time they all had of it, pushing their way from one end of the long market-house to the other, and then parading up and down outside, where the country people, with their wagons, exhibited their wares on tables improvised from a couple of barrels with boards laid across. A little of anything that might be salable was offered, from bunches of dried herbs to fat turkeys. "It hasn't changed a particle since I was a little girl," declared Miss Ri. "My uncle used to take me to market with him before breakfast on summer mornings, and would buy me a glass of ice cream from that very stand," she designated one with a bee-hive on its sign. "I wonder how I could eat such a thing so early in the morning, though then I thought it a great treat. On Saturday evenings in winter he always brought home a parcel of taffy, which tasted exactly as this does which we have bought to-night. And my aunt, I can see her now with a colored boy walking behind her carrying a huge basket, while she had a tiny one in which to bring home special dainties."