the girl there always, of giving battle for her, of sheltering
her against the world. In what she had done he saw only a
sacrifice. In her he beheld only a penitent, who was
self-accused and self-convicted.
He heard the voice of the old man screaming vindictively, "She
plotted to get my money!"
Winthrop turned upon him savagely.
"How did she plot to get it?" he retorted fiercely. "You know,
and I know. I know how your lawyer, your doctor, your servant
plotted to get it!" His voice rose and rang with indignation.
"You all plotted, and you all schemed -- and to what end -- what
was the result?" -- he held before them the fainting figure of
the girl -- "That one poor child could prove she was honest!"
With his arms still about her, and her hands clinging to him, he
moved with her quickly to the door. When they had reached the
silence of the hall, he took her hands in his, and looked into