Vivian touched her father's arm. She was very pale but vastly more composed than the others.
"Father, listen to me," she said. Her voice trembled in spite of her effort to control it. "We are condemning Miss Castleton unheard. Let us hear everything before we—"
"Good God, Vivian! Do you mean to—"
"How can we place any reliance on what she may say?" cried Mrs. Wrandall.
"Nevertheless," said Vivian firmly, "I for one shall not condemn her unheard. I mean to be as fair to her as Sara has been. It shall not be said that ALL the Wrandalls are smaller than Sara Gooch!"
"My child—" began her father incredulously. His jaw dropped suddenly. His daughter's shot had landed squarely in the heart of the Wrandall pride.
"If she has anything to say,"—said Mrs. Wrandall, waving Booth aside and sinking stiffly into her chair. Her husband sat down. Their jaws set hard.
"Thank you, Vivian," said Sara, surprised in spite of herself. "You are nobler than I—"
"Please don't thank me, Sara," said Vivian icily. "I was speaking for Miss Castleton."
Sara flushed. "I suppose it is useless to ask you to be fair to Sara Gooch, as you choose to call me."