Virginia, weeping for William, trembling at the thought that William’s heart must have turned remorsefully to the memories of their innocent affection, nevertheless flushed at the thought that Daniel would be a witness, a bystander, at any drama that unrolled now in their lives. She had never thought of Daniel before as having any part between William and her, but now it was Daniel’s judgment that mattered. Yet she loved William. She no longer attempted to deny that to herself, she could not--it was William who was suffering and shamed by the woman who had left him. Virginia was softly wiping the tears from her eyes when she heard her grandfather coming back. She rose, looked hastily into the mirror, and, reassured by the face she saw there, went out into the hall and met him. “I thought you were going to walk all the way into town with Dan,” she remarked casually. The colonel shook his head. “I only went to the corner. Jinny, the trial’s to be next week. Judge Jessup has managed to rush it before the court adjourns this session. It seems Mrs. Carter can’t bear the suspense, and I reckon the boy can’t, either. I never did think Leigh had much grit--not even when he ate lollypops,” he added grimly, eying Virginia. “I know his poor mother has gone to pieces,” she replied gently. “Emily told me as much. Poor Emily, she’s cried so hard that paint won’t help her white eyelashes now.” The colonel, who had discovered that Virginia had been crying herself, looked thoughtful. They turned and walked through the hall together to the staircase. Virginia started to ascend--she wanted to escape--but her grandfather had more news for her. “Dan’s a kind of clam,” he observed after a moment’s pause, “but I got something out of him. Fanchon has told him her story. He believes that it will help save Leigh. He’s going to put her on the stand.” Virginia, leaning on the banister, blushed again. “I thought she’d left William,” she said in a low voice. “So she has--so she has; but Dan says she’ll do anything to save Leigh. She seems to be fond of that fool kid. Got him under her thumb, I suppose, and then made him do her bidding. I reckon she’d better go on the stand. It’s the only thing she can do. But, by gum, I’m sorry for Johnson Carter and his wife, and Emily and Dan.” “And William,” suggested Virginia softly. “No!” thundered the colonel. “No! I’m not a mite sorry for that lummox--he went and married her! He----” The old man stopped with his mouth open. Lucas, the negro driver, had just appeared at the back door, his arms full of green ears of corn. “Been up de hill, suh,” he explained genially, “an’ Col’nel Colfax’s son, he don’ send yo’ all dis yere corn. Golden Bantam--dat’s what he call it, same as dey calls dem lil no-account chickens.” “It looks small,” said the colonel. “How about that horse? Did you like it, Lucas?”