Donald flushing, slightly. "We are having a good chat. Won't you sit down and join us?"
But Mrs. Allison could not for the moment.
When the door closed after her a chorus of voices rung out.
"But the father and mother are not negro."
"There's not a trace in the family."
"She's not a bit like one."
Mrs. Donald pounced on the last speaker.
"Not a bit like! Look at her hair! Look at her face—her lips! Have you no eyes?"
"We never noticed; but now that you draw our attention to it," one said, "perhaps there are some characteristics. But the father or mother—what do you insinuate?"
"Me! I insinuate nothing." Mrs. Donald was surprised. "But, between ourselves," she added confidentially, "I fancy Virginia is not their own child, but some half-caste negro they have adopted for some reason which I should like to know."
"What a name to call her by—Virginia!" Miss Anderson said, "if they did not want to attract attention to what they evidently wish to hide."
"Well, there are two explanations of that,"
