HAVERILL. My--son.

EDITH. You did not receive mother's letter?--after his death?

HAVERILL. My son! [_Sinking upon chair or ottoman._] I left him alone
in his grave, unknown; but my tears fell for him then, as they do now.
He died before I reached him.

EDITH. Father! [_Laying her hand gently on his shoulder._] You shall
see Frank's face again. His little son is lying asleep upstairs; and
when he wakes up, Frank's own eyes will look into yours. I have
just received his last message. I will read it to you. [_Note-book.
Reads._] "Tell our little son how his father died, not how he lived.
And tell her who filled my own mother's place so lovingly." [_She
looks at_ MRS. HAVERILL, _moves to her and hides her face in her
bosom._] My mother!

MRS. HAVERILL. Edith--my child! Frank loved us both.

EDITH. [_Reading._] "Father's portrait of her, which she gave to me in
Charleston--[HAVERILL _starts._]--helped me to be a better man."

HAVERILL. [_Rising to his feet._] Constance!

EDITH. [_Reading._] "It was taken from me in Richmond, and it is in
the possession of Captain Edward Thornton."

HAVERILL. One moment! Stop! Let me think! [EDITH _looks at him;
retires up stage._] Thornton was a prisoner--and to Kerchival West. A
despatch had been found upon him--he was searched! [_He moves to her