The colonel nodded thoughtfully.
“I reckon there is. Haskins made a big fight, Jinny, but”—the old man drew a long breath—“by gum, I’ve heard that girl’s story—Fanchon’s. She told it on the stand!”
He stopped, drawing a deep breath. He seemed to be contemplating something amazing. Virginia said nothing. She clasped her hands tightly in her lap, looking not at him but at the constellation in front of her. It happened to be the Scorpion, and she began to count the stars silently.
“By gum!” said the colonel again.
Plato came to the door.
“Col’nel, have a julep, suh, or dat watermelon?”
“Nothing at all; I’m not hungry.”
The colonel waved him away; then he turned to Virginia and told her Fanchon’s story. He told it better than she could have hoped to have him tell it.
“She hasn’t been a bad girl, Jinny. That was a relief to me. Haskins tried to slur her, but Daniel brought it out point by point. Married at fifteen, and her old aunt swore that she was eighteen to get money out of it, by gum!”
Virginia, who had listened with emotion, shivered.