“Johnson!”
His wife’s dismay only brought a grim smile to Carter’s face. He unfolded his napkin without further comment. Before Miranda returned with the soup-tureen, Mrs. Carter rallied sufficiently to lean over and murmur across the table:
“I’ve got a lot to tell you—that dreadful girl was with that man this morning—behind the Methodist Church! I saw—”
She stopped, for Leigh had risen suddenly. He flung his napkin on the table and stalked out of the room with a white face. Mr. Carter stared after him.
“What the—” he began.
Emily touched his hand warningly. Miranda was returning.
“Leigh’s awfully mashed on Fanchon,” Emily whispered irrelevantly, returning to her dinner.
Mr. Carter shut his mouth hard, and the conversation languished. Daniel spoke once about the weather, and his father nodded.
“Judge Jessup handed out a lot of compliments for you to-day, Dan,” he remembered suddenly.
Mrs. Carter looked pleased, but even this fell flat. They could hear William’s tramp continuing after Leigh went up-stairs. Mr. Carter rose once and went to the door.