It was an unfortunate affair altogether. Neal was moody and low-spirited, and he was deeply offended that his story was not generally believed, for the household was divided in regard to it.
Jack and Cynthia stoutly maintained his innocence, Mr. Franklin and Edith looked at the worst side of it, while Mrs. Franklin was undecided in her opinion.
She wanted to believe her brother's word, she did believe it, and yet all the proved facts were so hopelessly against him. The other boys that had been suspended were his friends. Neal had been reproved before for mischief that he had been in with them. It was one of those sad cases when a man's past record counts against him, no matter how innocent he may be of the present offence. But Hester could not believe that her brother would lie to her.
One morning Edith drove her father to the train. Not a vestige of snow was left near the road; only a patch or two on the hills, and even that was rapidly disappearing in the spring sunshine which every day grew warmer.
"Have you heard much about St. Asaph's from any one but Neal?" asked Mr. Franklin, quite abruptly. "Doesn't that cousin of the Morgans go there?"
"Do you mean Tom, papa? Yes, he does, and Tony Bronson, too, who stays at the Morgans' occasionally."
"I think I remember. Did you ever hear either of them speak of Neal, or discuss him in any way?"
Edith hesitated.
"Tom Morgan never did," she said at last.
"And the other fellow?"