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But I haven't seen anything but stubble-fields dismally wet stubble-fields at that. Won't you sit down and help me watch them go by?" Adams placed a chair for her and found one for himself. "'Uncle Somerville' am I to have the pleasure of meeting Mr. Somerville Darrah?" Miss Virginia's laugh was non-committal.
He stopped, and the tears were wet upon Virginia's lashes. She could not have spoken then. Mr. Lincoln went over to his desk and sat down before it. Then he began to write, slouched forward, one knee resting on the floor, his lips moving at the same time. When he got up again he seemed taller than ever. "There!" he said, "I guess that will fix it. I'll have that sent to Sherman.
Virginia's eyes wandered over its vast and gloomy horizon, distinguishable from the bay of the island by the red fires in the fishing boat. She perceived at the entrance of the harbour a light and a shadow: these were the watch-light and the body of the vessel in which she was to embark for Europe, and which, ready to set sail, lay at anchor, waiting for the wind.
Taking Virginia's arm, he escorted her across the street. Stephen was left in a quandary. Here was a home for the girl, and a good one. Why should me spend the money which meant so much to him. He saw the man Jenkin elbowing to the front. And yet suppose Mr. Colfax did not get her?
Her smile included Virginia's companion, a tall, rather heavy girl, with intelligent grey eyes and fair hair cut in a straight fringe across her forehead. She was the daughter of Cyrus Treadwell, the wealthiest and therefore the most prominent citizen of the town, and she was also as intellectual as the early eighties and the twenty-one thousand inhabitants of Dinwiddie permitted a woman to be.
"That would be better," smiled Yesler, and Virginia thought it significant that her friend made no further protest. Gray streaks began to show in the sky before Yesler tapped on the door of Virginia's room.
This silhouette of him was dear to her, the sound of his movements, the faint stir of his breathing borne to her on the light breeze. Virginia's tender heart almost overflowed with longing and fear for him. They emerged on a little slope and at once pushed the canoe into the current.
Virginia's blush came quickly, and turning her head away, she gazed earnestly down the street to the octagonal market, which stood on the spot where slaves were offered for sale when she was born. "Mr. Treadwell is crossing the street now," she said after a minute. "I wonder why he keeps his mouth shut so tight when he is alone?"
Together they forced a little between her lips, and watched the colour coming back into her cheeks. Then Phineas Duge withdrew his arm and walked to the other side of the desk. On the floor were the broken fragments of Virginia's locket. The carpet had been torn up. The steel coffer, with the keys still in it, was there half open.
But since his innocence was as temperamental a quality as was Virginia's maternal passion, experience had taught him nothing, and the fact that he had been deceived in the past threw no shadow of safeguard around his steps in the present. This endearing trait, which made him so successful as a husband, was probably the cause of his unmitigated failure as a reformer.
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