lf told her of the resemblance that Katharine recalled.

The judge, on the front seat, was telling a low-toned story over his
shoulder for the delectation of Nancy and Betty, but Shirley was not
listening. Her whole mind was full of what Katharine had been saying.
She was picturing to herself this woman, her secret hidden all these
years, hearing of John Valiant's coming to Damory Court, learning of
this likeness, shrinking from sight of it, dreading the painful memory
it must thrust upon her.

"Suppose"--Katharine's voice was dreamy--"that she and John met
suddenly, without warning. What would she do? Would she say anything?
Perhaps she would faint...."

Shirley started violently. Her hands, as they drew her cloak uncertainly
about her, began to tremble, as if with cold. Something fell from them
to the bottom of the surrey.

Through her chiffon veil Katharine noted this with a slow smile. It had
been easier than she had thought. She said no more, and the carriage
rolled on, to the accompaniment of giggles over the judge's peroration.
As it neared the Rosewood lane she leaned toward Shirley.

"You have dropped your fan," said she "--and your gloves, too.... I
might have reached them for you. Why, we are there already. How short
the drive has seemed!"

"Don't drive up the lane, Lige," said Shirley, and her voice seemed
sharp and strange even to herself. "The wheels would wake mother."
Katharine bade her good-by with careful sweetness, as the judge bundled
her down in his strong friendly arms.

"No," she told him, "don't come with me. It's not a bit necessary.
Emmaline will be waiting for me."

He climbed into her vacant place as the girls called their good nights.
"We'll all sleep late enough in the morning, I reckon," he said with a
laugh, "but it's been a great success!"

CHAPTER XXXIX

WHAT THE CAPE JESSAMINES KNEW

Emmaline was crouched in a chair in the hall, a rug thrown over her
knees, in open-mouthed slumber. She started up at the touch of Shirley's
hand, yawning widely.

"I 'clare t' goodness," she muttered, "I was jes' fixin' t' go t'
sleep!" The lamp on the table was low and she turned up the wick, then
threw up her arms like ramrods, in delight.

"Lor', honey," she said in a rapturous whisper, "I reck'n they all say
yo' was th' _purties'_ queen on earth, when th' vict'ry man set that
crown, with th' di'mon's as big as scaley-barks, on that little gol'
haid! But yo' pale, honey-chile.