"If North is innocent--" began the general.

"Father!" She regarded him with a look of horror and astonishment. "You
don't like him! It's that, isn't it?" she added after a moment's
silence.

"I don't like any one who gets into a scrape such as this!" replied the
general with miserable and unnecessary heat.

"But it wasn't _his_ fault--he couldn't help it!"

"I don't suppose he could," replied her father grimly.

She rose and came close to his side.

"Father!" she said in a tone of entreaty, placing a hand on his arm.

"What is it, dear?"

There was both tenderness and concern in his keen gray eyes as he
glanced up into her troubled face.

"I want you to go to him--to Mr. North, I mean. I want you to tell him
how sorry you are; I want him to know--I--" she paused uncertainly.

Perhaps for the first time in her life she was not quite sure of her
father's sympathy. She dreaded his man's judgment in this crisis.

"Now seriously, Elizabeth, don't you think I'd better keep away from
him? I can do nothing--"