Herford turned slowly. He looked aged and shaken.
“I’ll never forgive her—while he lives!” he declared with finality.
Dr. Price shook his head. They did not shake hands, and the dean went out with a curious feeling of failure and helplessness. He had failed in his Master’s business; he had failed to go to Diane with any remonstrance, and his remonstrance with the judge had fallen flat. He hurried down the steps and out into the country road.
As he got to the top of the hill, he saw Overton. Strangely enough, Overton was standing on the little bridge where Dr. Price had once seen Faunce stand at midnight. There was something in the attitude of the tall figure below him that made the little dean take the other path, for he knew he was not wanted there. He hurried home, instead, and Fanny opened the door for him. He noticed that she, too, was a little pale and shaken.
“What is it, papa?” she asked excitedly. “What did the judge want? Where’s Diane?”
Her father put down his hat and walking-stick and started for the library, holding his daughter’s hand.
“I’m glad you’re not married yet, Fan!” he remarked irrelevantly. Then he told her: “Diane’s gone back to her husband, my child. The thing’s over and done with, I hope.”
To his amazement he felt her hand trembling in his, and turned, to find her lip quivering like a child’s. She was trying to keep back tears.
“Oh, papa!” she cried softly, with a little sob. “I’m so glad—I’m so glad! I know how he loved her!”
The dean looked helplessly toward the dining-room, where the Norwegian was moving heavily around the table.