“Sit down, dear,” she whispered. “Father,” he said in his high, boyish voice, his lips shaking, “she saved me. Where is she?” “Sit down,” said Mr. Carter with an impatient gesture. “We’ll talk of that another time.” He fixed an irate eye on his son, and the boy collapsed into his chair; but he scarcely tasted his food, nor did William eat more than a few mouthfuls. The two played with their forks and avoided looking at each other. Leigh was panting with anger against William. He understood now what had happened. William was deserting Fanchon because of Leigh’s act. Instead of protecting her, he had ruined her. The boy could not eat. His food strangled him. Mrs. Carter hurried on the cherry tarts, and Miranda bore them in on a tray, her face beaming. “Look, Leigh!” cried his mother. “Miranda made these for you.” The boy raised his shy eyes to the cook’s face. “You’re very good to me, Miranda,” he managed to say. Miranda, with her quick racial sympathy, nearly dropped the tray. “I declar’ to goodness if he ain’t gwine to cry in those tarts fo’ sho’!” she said to herself and cast an anxious look at Mrs. Carter’s troubled face. At this juncture, William, who felt himself to be a death’s head at the feast, rose abruptly and left the room. A moment later the startled family heard the front door close behind him. Emily slipped out of her seat and ran to the window, coming back just as Miranda returned to the kitchen. “He’s gone to the Denbighs,” Emily announced in a stage whisper in her mother’s ear. “I just knew he would.” “Oh, Emmy, hush!” Mrs. Carter said, looking shocked. “He’s gone there--I watched him,” said Emily, helping herself to more cherry tarts. More might have followed but for the fortunate return of Miranda. As she came back, Daniel, having finished his meal, rose slowly and started for the door. “Dan,” said his father, looking around at him for the first time. “Jessup says you won the case. He thinks you’re a great lawyer. I’m proud of you, my son!” Daniel’s face flushed; he understood the break in the older man’s voice. “Thank you,” he said simply. “I’m sorry I had to do what I did.” His father nodded his head gravely. “You finished her. It was a bit cruel, but it had to be done.” Daniel’s flush deepened. He seemed about to speak, then hesitated and said nothing. They heard him slowly ascending the stairs to his room. “He’s going to be a great lawyer, papa,” said Mrs. Carter with a flash of pleasure. Mr. Carter nodded his head gravely, assenting, his eyes on Leigh. Daniel went heavily up-stairs to his room. He tried not to think of what Emily had said, but he couldn’t shut it out of his mind. His thoughts kept hovering back to it, like wretched singed moths making their last fascinated plunge for the flame of the candle; the plunge that was sure to take their remaining wings off.