Yet—poor William! Tears rushed to Virginia’s eyes. Her heart yearned over him. At that moment, when William was breaking with the wife that he had preferred to her, when he was crushed by the scandal that the woman had made of his life, Virginia forgave him.
She sank down on the piano-stool under his childish picture, and, covering her face with her hands, she wept—not for herself, as Fanchon had done, but for William. She had fought hard to crush out her love for him, but at that moment she felt that she had not succeeded, that it was too strong for her, and she trembled.
She trembled at the thought of the look on his face when she had seen him last. She knew that he had come back to her. Virginia, who could not see into the future, still felt a thrill of terror at her heart. It was as if an invisible power walked with her, an invisible hand thrust her toward unforeseen perils, and into ways that she knew not.
Strangely enough, too, in the midst of her emotion, the thought came to her, keenly and vividly—what would Dan think of it? And of her—Virginia? In some way, intuitively, for he had said nothing about it, she knew that Daniel’s attitude toward Fanchon had changed. Something in the very intonation of his voice had told her that; yet he had announced the separation without comment, and had even appeared to assent to Colonel Denbigh’s suppressed recognition of Fanchon’s culpability.
Virginia, weeping for William, trembling at the thought that William’s heart must have turned remorsefully to the memories of their innocent affection, nevertheless flushed at the thought that Daniel would be a witness, a bystander, at any drama that unrolled now in their lives. She had never thought of Daniel before as having any part between William and her, but now it was Daniel’s judgment that mattered. Yet she loved William. She no longer attempted to deny that to herself, she could not—it was William who was suffering and shamed by the woman who had left him.
Virginia was softly wiping the tears from her eyes when she heard her grandfather coming back. She rose, looked hastily into the mirror, and, reassured by the face she saw there, went out into the hall and met him.
“I thought you were going to walk all the way into town with Dan,” she remarked casually.
The colonel shook his head.
“I only went to the corner. Jinny, the trial’s to be next week. Judge Jessup has managed to rush it before the court adjourns this session. It seems Mrs. Carter can’t bear the suspense, and I reckon the boy can’t, either. I never did think Leigh had much grit—not even when he ate lollypops,” he added grimly, eying Virginia.
“I know his poor mother has gone to pieces,” she replied gently. “Emily told me as much. Poor Emily, she’s cried so hard that paint won’t help her white eyelashes now.”