The scene when the verdict was handed to Judge Brentano was appalling.
The little Irish girl standing in front of the bar of justice, with eyes looking straight ahead into those of the judge; the auditors standing breathless awaiting the words that were to fall from his lips.
When the court read from the slip of paper, "We, the jury, find Ella Gingles not guilty," bedlam broke loose. Men and women, many of them richly dressed, rioted madly. Several of the clubwomen and members of the Irish Fellowship Society ran to the girl's side and hugged and kissed her.
For several minutes the court made no attempt to still the outbreak. He, too, grim and stern, and used to tragedies in the court, seemed to feel the joyfulness of the occasion.
"I'm so happy," the little lace-maker told her friends. "I was certain I would be freed. It was a horrible plot against me, but with all my friends working for me I knew I could not come to any harm."
After leaving the courtroom the girl was taken in a cab to the home of a wealthy clubwoman on the south side. That evening hundreds of supporters called to greet her and tell her of their joy at her acquittal. Several of them joined together and presented her with a small diamond brooch.
The next day the little lace-maker began making arrangements to return to her old home and to her parents, at Larne, Ireland. There with her family she expected to try to live down the horrors of her experiences in Chicago.