For a dubious instant of silence Colonel Carvel stared. Then—then he slapped his knees, broke into a storm of laughter, and went out of the room. He left Stephen in a moist state of discomfiture.
The Judge had bolted upright from the pillows.
"You have been neglecting your law, sir," he cried.
"I wrote the article at night," said Stephen, indignantly.
"Then it must have been Sunday night, Mr. Brice."
At this point Virginia hid her face in her handkerchief which trembled visibly. Being a woman, whose ways are unaccountable, the older man took no notice of her. But being a young woman, and a pretty one, Stephen was angry.
"I don't see what right you have to ask me that sir," he said.
"The question is withdrawn, Mr. Brice," said the Judge, "Virginia, you may strike it from the records. And now, sir, tell me something about your trip."
Virginia departed.
An hour later Stephen descended to the veranda, and it was with apprehension that he discerned Mr. Carvel seated under the vines at the far end. Virginia was perched on the railing.