“He’s nothing but a kid,” said the colonel with indignation. “I—by gum, Dan, I don’t like to say what I think!”
Virginia clapped her soft hand over his mouth.
“Not another word, grandpa!”
Daniel smiled.
“Never mind, Virginia, the newspapers are blatant. My father read the paper this morning and broke the cream-pitcher—the Wedgewood one, too.”
The colonel caught Virginia’s restraining hand and held it.
“Dan, how’s William?”
Daniel, who was looking at Virginia, became very grave.
“I don’t know how to answer that, colonel. He’s heartbroken over Leigh, I think. He and his wife”—Daniel hesitated, his eyes on Virginia—“have separated,” he concluded in a low voice.
The colonel, who knew it, only wagged his head soberly, but Virginia started. A deep blush rose from her throat to her white forehead. Her eyes fell before Daniel’s, and he saw her hands tremble.