"We all have our cross to bear, Mrs. Bordine. I believe, however, that
the worst is past. I believe that August will return and vindicate his
innocence in the courts."
"Ah, bless you for that, Miss Rose," uttered the old lady, with tears in
her old eyes. "You are an angel if there ever was one."
The two walked into the garden at the side of the house, where the air
was cool and balmy.
"I saw your son last night, Mrs. Bordine."
"What! Saw August?"
"Yes."
The widow was all interest at once.
Rose then related the interview she had with Andrew Barkswell, laboring
under the delusion that he was her lover.
"And he said he would surely come again and stand trial?"
"Yes."
"Dear boy, Heaven and I know that he is innocent, but it may be
impossible to prove it."
"Truth will prevail."
"I hope it will."
"And that poor girl, I know how you must feel at her death, with your son
absent. I've do doubt he will try and be at the funeral."
"Yes, I suppose so."
And yet Mrs. Bordine stared at Rose in a sort of dazed way that proved
that she did not fully understand.
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