“She still loves William,” he thought bitterly.
Virginia, hiding her confusion, began to ascend the old stone steps.
“Why, there’s your father!” she exclaimed suddenly. “I didn’t know that he often came this way.”
Daniel, who was very pale again, looked around.
“He counted on walking down with me, I fancy,” he remarked quietly, aware of the thunderstorm in Mr. Carter’s face.
Virginia saw it, too, and made haste.
“I’m going in now. Good-by, Daniel, and remember—about that next speech.”
He watched her as she went into the old church, stopping at the door to wave a greeting to his father. Framed thus, she made a picture that he kept in his mind all the day and many days thereafter.
Mr. Carter came up, a little out of breath and very red.
“Going my way, father?”