ally. It must be,
then, it must be, that there were grounds for his belief. She took her
pen and wrote a burning letter--a letter of entreaty and passionate
remonstrance. And then, the next morning, she burned it: she must not
write or speak on the subject at all, not even to him.

The slow days moved onward like the processions of a dream. But no one
noticed any change in the young teacher, who journeyed wearily through
the long hours. Old Nora saw the piles of newspapers in her mistress's
room, but as she could not read, they betrayed nothing. She would not,
besides, have recognized Helen under the name of Heathcote; the
beautiful lady who had visited the half-house in the days of
Jeanne-Armande was named Lorrington. The slow days moved on, but not
without events. In this case the law had moved speedily. An indictment
had been found, and the trial was to take place without delay in the
county town of the district to which Timloesville belonged.

Miss Teller had gone to this town; the newspapers said that she had
taken a house, and would remain during the trial, or as long as Captain
Heathcote was confined there. Anne, reading these items, reading the
many descriptions of Heathcote, the suggestions regarding the murder,
the theories concerning the blunder (for it was conceded that there had
been a blunder), asked herself wonderingly if he had no friends left--no
friends on earth, save herself and Miss Teller? The whole world seemed
to be against him. But she judged only from the newspapers. There was
another side. This was a small, local, but in one way powerful,
minority, which stood by the accused man immovably. This minority was
composed almost entirely of women--women high in New York society,
Helen's own companions and friends. They formed a determined band of
champions, who, without condescending to use any arguments, but simply
through their own personality, exerted a strong influence, limited, it
is true, but despotic. If the case was tried beforehand by the
newspapers, it was also tried beforehand by sweet voices and scornful
lips in many New York drawing-rooms. Society resolved itself into two
parties--those who did and those who did not believe in the guilt of the
imprisoned man. Those who did believe were almost all men; those who did
not, almost all women; the exceptions being a few men who stood by
Heathcote in spite of the evidence, and a few women who, having logical
minds, stood by the evidence in spi