He shook his head, but his eyes were not on her. They had passed on to her son.
William, flushed and silent, sat with his eyes down. The colonel, sharply aware of the tension in the air, wondered. Could Jinny make this lummox see? At the thought of Jinny the old man’s eyes lighted, and he looked ahead toward his own gates. They stood open, and he could see the old ginkgo-tree beside the door, already turning yellow as gold in the sun. The horses turned placidly, the wheel grated slightly on the stone curb, and they were going up the drive to the house.
“She’s in the west room,” said the colonel, glancing toward two windows where the shutters were half-closed. “We got a nurse the second night. I wasn’t willing to have Jinny wear herself out. She was up with her for twenty-four hours on a stretch.”
Mrs. Carter made an inarticulate sound, glancing at William in a frightened way, but no one spoke until the wagonette stopped at the door. Daniel Carter came down the piazza steps to meet them.
“She’s better,” he said soberly. “Virginia thinks she knows her.”
His mother clung to his hand as he helped her out.
“Oh, Dan, why didn’t you tell us?” she whispered.
He glanced grimly at William.
“I thought it was no use, mother.”
She knew what he meant, and she, too, glanced at William. He was following Colonel Denbigh up the steps, but his face was set and hard.