William shook his head, turning a deep red.
“I ought to be in Leigh’s place,” he said chokingly, “but I’m worse off.”
The colonel gave him a keen look. It was impossible not to see that the young man’s position was heartrending, and he pitied him. At the same time he still felt a righteous indignation against Fanchon’s husband.
“By gum, it serves him right,” he thought.
Then he was so ashamed of himself that he shook hands with William again. There didn’t seem to be anything else to do.
“I’ll go and sit by your father—if I can get there,” he said kindly. “I hope your mother’s better. Bearing up, eh?”
“She’s better,” said William thickly, averting his eyes. “It’s intolerable to me, Colonel Denbigh, that she should have to suffer so about Leigh on my account. If the boy had only come straight to me!” he added with suppressed passion, his lip quivering suddenly like a woman’s on the verge of tears.
The colonel nodded his head thoughtfully.
“I know—but it’s spilt milk, William. We’ll hope for the best. They tell me Dan’s a smart fellow. Going to be the best lawyer in this town, Judge Jessup says. He’ll get his brother off.”
“That won’t save my face,” William replied bitterly, plunging abruptly down the steps and out into the quadrangle.