though she would never release
it.

I had told them everything then. The story I had tried in vain to tell
them at dinner on the previous day was now listened to with eagerness,
and my father, knowing the truth of James's fall from grace, was
outspoken in his declaration that an injustice had been done the
Professor. In a solemn conference in the parlor, with Mr. Pound and the
squire, Doctor Pearl, Mr. Smiley, and all the other important men of the
neighborhood, he decried the attack on Henderson Blight as an outrage; he
found solace alone in the fact that the constable had been more
frightened than hurt, for it seemed that the bullet had only clipped the
flesh of his leg; he took upon himself all the blame for the affair, on
the ground that he, at least, should have known better. Squire Crumple
heartily agreed with my father, and pointed out that on his part he had
only allowed the warrant to issue under protest; henceforth he would rely
on his own judgment and would not interpret the law to suit the whims of
his friends. Mr. Pound was contrite, but he took comfort in the thought
that they had acted for the best in the light of their knowledge of the
circumstances, but now, knowing the facts, he advised that the whole
matter be allowed to simmer down quietly. He still took issue with his
respected friend the squire on the illegality of the means used to rid
the community of a most undesirable member. The squire replied with
heat, referring to the case of The Commonwealth _versus_ Hodgins, and the
subsequent action of Hodgins _versus_ The Commonwealth for damages. It
was very evident that he would be relieved in mind if the case of The
Commonwealth _versus_ Blight did simmer down. But there was one obstacle
to this programme of forgetting. It was not the constable. Lukens could
be quieted easily. It was Penelope. Even the gentlest ministrations of
Miss Spinner had failed to bring the small girl to a realization of the
happy change in her lot. Even Mr. Pound was touched by her grief and so
troubled that he offered amends in a home under the parsonage roof. He
realized now that the reason he had never been blessed with a child of
his own was that when the time came there might be a place at his board
and a nook in his heart for this abandoned little girl. On the strength
of her husband's offer Mrs. Pound was claiming Penelope as her own, and
very soon was complaining that she had a most troublesome child to