The jurors looked at her with evident sympathy and admiration,
and I remembered that as they were fellow-townsmen and neighbors
they probably knew the young woman well, and she was doubtless a
friend of their own daughters.

It seemed as if such social acquaintance must prejudice them in
her favor, and perhaps render them incapable of unbiased
judgment, should her evidence be incriminating. But in my secret
heart, I confess, I felt glad of this. I was glad of anything
that would keep even a shadow of suspicion away from this girl to
whose fascinating charm I had already fallen a victim.

Nor was I the only one in the room who dreaded the mere thought
of Miss Lloyd's connection with this horrible matter.

Mr. Hamilton and Mr. Porter were, I could see, greatly concerned
lest some mistaken suspicion should indicate any doubt of the
girl. I could see by their kindly glances that she was a
favorite, and was absolutely free from suspicion in their minds.

Mr. Orville had not quite the same attitude. Though he looked at
Miss Lloyd admiringly, I felt sure he was alertly ready to pounce
upon anything that might seem to connect her with a guilty
knowledge of this crime.

Gregory Hall's attitude was inexplicable, and I concluded I had
yet much to learn about that young man. He looked at Miss Lloyd
critically, and though his glance could not be called quite
unsympathetic, yet it showed no definite sympathy. He seemed to
be coldly weighing her in his own mental balance, and he seemed