“Serves him right,” his father thought hotly, and then: “She’s saved Leigh!” That sent a thrill of remorse through him, and his eyes followed the line of reporters, which led, like a trail of ants after a dead beetle, straight to the small figure in black on the other side of the court-room. Mr. Carter, perspiring freely and with a sinking heart, beheld his daughter-in-law. Fanchon was as white as William, but those lovely, fawn-like eyes were soft, appealing, almost childlike. She scarcely heeded the reporters. She seemed unwilling to speak to any one, and, as Mr. Carter looked at her, she began to make her way toward Leigh. There was a little hum of excited comment as she moved, and the light grace and beauty of the small, black-clad figure had never been more marked. She wore the same big, black hat, and her veil, floating from the wide brim, formed a shadowy background for the small, pointed face--the face that had never shown more fully than it did at that moment its subtle, tantalizing, inimitable charm. Mr. Carter saw it reluctantly, and Leigh saw it with boyish devotion as she came up. They said little. She gave both her small hands to the boy. “Dear, dear Leigh!” she whispered, a sob in her throat. “Oh, Fanchon!” That was all he could gasp out, his eyes too misted to see the beauty of hers. Their hands clung together. “Dear boy!” Fanchon murmured. “I can’t thank you--you believed in me! I shall remember--_toujours, toujours_!” He wrung her hands. Then some one else came up to speak to him, and she passed on. Turning from Leigh, she came face to face with her husband. For a moment she seemed to hold her breath. In the crowd no one saw them but Daniel, who had just come back to sit by his mother and Emily. Fanchon stood still, and her hand went to her side with an involuntary gesture of pain. For an instant she looked at William, but he never raised his eyes. He stood motionless, looking down. There was no sign that he was even aware of her, except a perceptible hardening of the mouth. She turned away blindly, dropping her veil over her face, and started toward the door. Daniel pressed his mother’s arm. “Mother, you ought to thank Fanchon. She saved Leigh. It’s been terrible for her.” “Me? Oh, I can’t!” Mrs. Carter’s lip trembled worse than ever. “It--it wouldn’t do any good.” “Mother! Don’t you understand? She saved Leigh.” Mrs. Carter started to her feet. “Oh, Dan, I’ll--I’ll try!” she stammered. Daniel seized her arm and led her toward her daughter-in-law. They had to push through the crowd to a side door behind the witness-stand, for Fanchon had already reached it. Her veil was down, and, as Daniel spoke her name, she stood motionless, waiting. There was a difficult moment, and then Mrs. Carter’s tremulous, frightened voice: “Dan says you saved my boy----”