Dr. Underwood glanced apprehensively at Burton, who just then appeared in the doorway. Then he dropped into a chair with a groan.
"I forgot my confounded ankle," he said, in lame explanation.
Mrs. Underwood turned her gaze slowly upon him. "Don't prevaricate, Roger," she said coldly. "You did not groan because of your ankle, but because Henry's sin has found him out. I should think that you would at least see the importance of keeping clear of future sin."
"May I come in?" asked Burton. There was something strange in his voice,--a quality that made every one turn toward him expectantly, as though he brought a message. "May I venture a word? Of course you know that I know what has happened. I came here with the officer because I felt that my interest in everything touching the honor of your family warranted me in seeing this unfortunate affair through as far as possible. I say unfortunate, because of course it must add to your annoyance temporarily. But I do not think it will do more than that. In fact, I think it may be the means of really getting at the truth that lies under this mass of misunderstanding. I do not think that Henry Underwood is insane,--or that he had anything to do with Mr. Hadley's plight. I believe him innocent and honorable, and I am going to bend every energy I possess to proving him so."
He had spoken to all, but his eyes rested eagerly on Leslie, and at his last words she sprang impulsively forward and caught his hand in both her own.
"Oh, thank you, thank you!" she cried.
"Leslie, control yourself," said Mrs. Underwood, in calm reproof.
Dr. Underwood got upon his feet, with entire disregard of his ankle, and crossed the room to Burton.
"Have you any ground for that opinion, beyond an optimistic disposition and a natural desire to spare the family of your patient?" he demanded. "God knows I want to believe you,--but--" He broke off and shook his head.
Burton hastily realized that he was hardly justified, at this point, in making his own grounds for assurance public.