her attire.

"It is the same dress I have worn for several months."

He did not know enough of the details of a woman's garb to see that the
change came from the absence of white at the throat and wrists. After
Helen's death poor Anne had sewed black lace in her plain black gown; it
was the only mourning she could allow herself.

The moment was now come when she must say something. Dexter, his
outburst over, was leaning back in his chair, looking at her. "Miss
Teller has gone to Multomah, I believe," she remarked, neutrally.

"Yes; singularly enough, she believes him innocent. I heard, while in
the city to-day, that the Varces and Bannerts and others of that set
believe it also, and are all at Multomah 'for the moral effect.' For the
moral effect!" He threw back his head and laughed scornfully. "I wish I
had time to run up there myself," he added, "to dwell upon the moral
effect of all those fine ladies. However, the plain American people have
formed their own opinion of this case, and are not likely to be moved by
such influences. They understand. This very evening, on the train, I
heard a mechanic say, 'If the jurymen were only fine ladies, now, that
Heathcote would get off yet.'"

"How can you repeat such words?" said the girl, blazing out suddenly and
uncontrollably, as a fire which has been long smothered bursts into
sudden and overpowering flame at the last.

"Of course it is bad taste to jest on such a subject. I only--Why, Anne,
what is the matter?" For she had risen and was standing before him, her
eyes brilliant with an expression which was almost hate.

"You believe that he did it?" she said.

"I do."

"And I do _not_! You say that Helen taunted him, that she drove him
into a frenzy; you imagine the scene, and picture its details. Know that
Helen loved him with her whole heart. Whatever she may have been to you,
to him she was utterly devoted, living upon his words and his smile. She
esteemed herself blessed simply to be near him--in his presence; and, on
that very night, she said that no wife was ever so happy, and that on
her knees she had thanked her Creator for that which made her life one
long joy."

Gregory Dexter's face had showed the profoundest wonder while the
excited girl was speaking, but by the time she ceased he had, in his
quick way, grasped something of the truth, unexpected and astonishing
though it was.

"You know this?" he said. "Then she wrote to you."

"Yes."

"On the ev