Denton led her quickly from the
jail. He was too shocked and grieved himself to wish to remain another
moment. During the ride back to the store there was hardly a word spoken
in the carriage, for both Mr. Denton and Faith were in the most
distressed condition of mind.
In Mr. Denton's mind two thoughts were uppermost, his son's wickedness
in the past and his duty in the future. At any other time he would have
known how to act, but now he was sorely puzzled. Faith, on the other
hand, was hiding her face from almost shame, for she had learned a
secret in that brief moment at the jail which was overwhelming her soul
in a flood of self-censure.
The fair face of James Denton was constantly before her. His pleading
eyes and glances of admiration haunted her. She felt, what she would not
own even admit to herself, that in spite of his wickedness she was
deeply in love with him.
"It does not seem possible," Mr. Denton said at last. "I know my son was
thoughtless, but I did not believe him wicked."
Faith could not speak; she was crying softly. The knowledge of her love
had completely crushed her.
"Let me go home, please," she murmured, as her employer helped her from
the carriage. "I am afraid I am too nervous to remain at the store.
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