He was thinking this, with a stinging and humiliating consciousness of his own physical disability, when he finally turned from his post of observation and began to descend the hill which led to Judge Jessup’s office. It was a curious fact that his mental state had an effect on his bodily affliction, and, when his mind was in conflict, his limp--usually no more than a slow, halting step--became almost painful. He was limping very badly and leaning on his cane when he saw an equipage approaching that was as unmistakable as Noah’s ark would have been, had it been harnessed to a couple of stout old dappled grays and started on the turnpike to Ararat. This was an old-fashioned wagonette, drawn by two elderly grays, and driven by George Washington Lucas, old Uncle Plato’s grandson, a coal black negro, attired in a rubbishy bottle-green livery and a white straw hat. Alone on one of the rear seats, which ran length-wise in the wagonette, was a slim figure in a flowered organdy, with a wide leghorn hat looped down at the sides by the broad pink ribbons that were knotted coquettishly under her chin. It was an old hat, made to do, if the truth be told, but it framed a charming face, and shaded the eyes that were greeting Daniel Carter. At a word from her Lucas drew rein and she leaned forward, smiling. “Let me give you a lift, Dan,” she called to him, sweetly. For the first time in his life Daniel’s heart sank at the sound of Virginia Denbigh’s voice. He came up, hat in hand, to answer her, and Virginia was startled, in her turn, for Daniel was blushing. He was red to his hair and it gave a bizarre effect to his usually pale face. “He’s hurt because he thinks I pity his lameness,” Virginia thought. “We’re going the same way, Dan. Get in, I feel queer sitting here all by my lonesome,” she said gaily. “Grandpa couldn’t come to-day.” But he could not get in. The thought of taking advantage of her kindness when he knew what his brother had done, was too much for Daniel. “Thank you a thousand times, but I’ve only got a few steps to go now, Virginia,” he replied, forcing a smile though his lips felt stiff. “The colonel isn’t ill, is he?” “No, he’s planting,” she laughed, puzzled by the young man’s manner. What could be the matter with him? she wondered. “I’ve got to do the marketing, get the mail and buy a newspaper. Some one stole ours this morning. Has--have you heard from William yet, Dan?” Daniel had laid one hand on the edge of the wagonette while they spoke, it tightened now--as something seemed to tighten about his heart. He couldn’t tell her! “Mother got a letter this morning.” Virginia’s clear eyes fixed on him, discerning something behind his words. She blushed suddenly and painfully, leaning back in her seat. “I’m so glad! Mrs. Carter was so anxious. I haven’t heard myself for a long time,” she added steadily, bending another searching look on William’s brother.