“Well, perhaps Mrs. Carter might feel that way too,” said the lady bending over a rose geranium and pinching a leaf to smell.
“I don't understand you,” said Mrs. Frost from her coffee cup, “Oh, you mean that perhaps Mark may not be convicted? Why, my dear lady, there isn't a chance at all, not a chance in the world for Mark, and while I'm real sorry I can't say I'd approve. Think of how he's carried on, going with that little huzzy of a Cherry. Mrs. Harricutt says she saw him have her out riding in his automobile one day—!”
“Oh,—Mrs. Harricutt!” said Mrs. Gibson impatiently, “Mrs. Frost, let's find something pleasanter to talk about. It's a wonderful morning. The air's like wine. I wonder If I couldn't take a little walk. I mean to ask the doctor.”
“My dear woman,” said Frost patronizingly, “You can't get away from the unpleasant things in this world by just not talking about them!”
“It seems not,” said the Gibson lady patiently, and wandered out on the porch.
Down the street Marilyn lingered by her mother's chair:
“Are you—going to Economy to-day, mother?”
“Yes, dear, your father and I are both going. Did you—think you ought—wanted to—go dear?”
“Oh, I should hate it!” cried Lynn flinging out her hands with a terrible little gesture of despair, “But I wanted to go just to stand by Mark. I shall be there anyway, wherever I am, I shall see everything and feel everything in my heart I know. But in the night it came to me that some one ought to stay with Mrs. Carter!”
“Yes, dear! I had hoped you would think of that. I didn't want to mention it because I wanted you to follow your own heart's leading, but I think she needs you. If you could keep her from finding out until it was over—”