Mrs. Carter rose, with a gasp, glancing at her husband. She met assent in his eyes, and she hurried out into the hall. William stood there, his face changed and softened, but still very pale. His eyes met his mother’s, and he held out his hand. “She’s come out of her delirium. She knows me--and she wants to ask your forgiveness,” he said in a low voice, swallowing a lump in his throat. Mrs. Carter clung to his arm, lifting her face to his. “Oh, Willie!” she sobbed, and kissed him. The colonel and Mr. Carter saw the mother and son going up-stairs together. “It’s all right,” said the colonel with manifest relief. “I’m mighty glad of it!” Mr. Carter made no reply, but lifted his glass of iced tea slowly to his lips and drank it. He felt choked. He was registering a silent vow that, whatever happened, Emily shouldn’t paint her eyelashes! Virginia, smiling at her grandfather, slipped quietly out of the room. She stood for a moment in the wide, cool hall, listening. She could hear the faint murmur of voices above her, and the tramp of Daniel’s nervous feet. Outside the door the warm sunshine seemed to pulsate, and a thousand little gnats danced in a circle in mid air. Virginia crossed the hall softly and stood in the door. Daniel, very pale and quiet, stopped his marching up and down. His eyes met hers with a silent interrogation. “It’s all right, Dan,” she said gently. “William just called your mother. It’s made up.” Daniel drew a deep breath, his eyes on her face. He thought he had never seen her look so beautiful. “It’s your doing, Virginia,” he said softly. She shook her head, coming out and standing beside him in the sunshine. “It’s God’s doing, Dan,” she replied gravely. He said nothing. He was still gazing at her. She looked so beautiful and so happy that he wondered if, after all, she cared for William. Then he reflected that angels must always look beautiful in acts of love and renunciation. She turned and smiled at him again. “Let’s walk down to the end of the garden,” she said gently. “It’s cool there under the old mulberry.” They walked slowly, not because of his lameness, for he was limping very little to-day, but because the walk through the old garden-paths was sweet. “My roses are still blooming,” remarked Virginia. “I’m going to set out some more of these late ones this autumn. How sweet the air is to-day!” He looked up at the clear sky. Only a few white clouds floated in the deep, ineffable blue. “It’s a heavenly day,” he said. They were silent after that, walking between the hedgerows, until they came to a grassy slope that was left to go wild, because Virginia loved wild flowers. Here, in the spring, were pink anemones and blood-root, and now there were little yellow flowers on the green blades of grass. They sat down together on a fallen tree, which had been left lying there for a seat. Daniel looked down at the little yellow stars in the grass.