Virginia, who had been standing by the telephone, walked slowly across the room to a window that overlooked the town. It was a spot that showed the old place in its most homelike and friendly aspect, with its wreath of foliage--now, in midsummer, at the full height of its beauty--and its background of lovely hills. She could see from here the long gable of Dr. Barbour’s roof, and over there the chimneys of the Paysons’ more pretentious mansion. Behind the tall poplars was the Carter house, and yonder the cross-tipped spire of the church. Beyond these she caught a glimpse of a distant cupola, and knew it to be the apex of the court-house. A pleasant, warm haze hung in the summer atmosphere, and she could hear the tinkling bell on a passing peddler’s cart. Virginia tried not to think. She did not want to think of William watching his wife go on the stand for such a cause; but as she leaned forward her hands gripped the window-sill until the delicate knuckles whitened. She was still there when Lucas came driving back from town. He had taken the colonel to court in an antiquated rockaway that belonged in the family. He was returning alone now, with a number of bundles in the rockaway, topped by a large ripe watermelon. Virginia watched him drive in the gate and on to the stables. Presently he came along on foot, with his watermelon on his shoulder. Virginia called to him. “Where did you get your melon, Lucas?” “Presen’ fo’ de col’nel, Miss Jinny.” Lucas turned his shoulder around for her to look at the melon. “Ain’t he a beauty! Sho’ he is! Mist’ Payson, he give him to me. He say: ‘Luke, yo’ take him to de col’nel fo’ a presen’.’” Virginia admired the melon. “Grandfather isn’t coming back until late,” she said. “Did he tell you when to come for him, Lucas?” “No, Miss Jinny, he ain’t a comin’ till it’s over, I reckon. Yo’ oughter see dat court-house! Ain’t no gettin’ inter it. Mis’ Wilyum Carter, she testifyin’. Seems like it mus’ be motion-picture show, Miss Jinny. I saw Mist’ Wilyum Carter myse’f. He was goin’ in ayonnah, an’ he look--Miss Jinny, he look like one ob dese yere white-spine cucumbers--he ain’t got no more colluh ’cept green.” “That’s all right, Lucas. Take that watermelon down to the kitchen and get Lucy to put it on ice. The colonel may want it when he comes home.” “Yes, Miss Jinny, I sho’ will. I’s-- Say, Miss Jinny, Mirandy, Miz Carter’s help, she say Mist’ Wilyum gwine to get divorcement.” “Never mind about Miranda,” said Virginia hastily. “You get that melon out of the sun.” “He ain’t gwine to get hurt in de sun, Miss Jinny. He’s jus’ ripe--yo’ heah him?” Lucas gave the melon a scientific tap. “Yo’ heah him? He’s all right, he sho’ is, Miss Jinny. Mirandy, she say Mist’ Carter--de ole man--he raise ruction ’bout it when Mist’ Leigh shoot dat man----” “Lucas,” said Virginia, “I never listen to gossip. You take that melon to the kitchen!” “Yes, Miss Jinny, yes, miss, I’s goin’, but Mirandy----”