"It would be a poor kind of friendship, a poorer kind of love, if we did
not let him know at once that this has not changed our--our, regard for
him!" she said softly.

"It is not your ready sympathy; you are quite certain it is not that,
Elizabeth?"

"I am sure, father--sure of myself as I am of him! You say he has been
arrested, does that mean--" and she hesitated.

"It means, my dear, that he is in jail," answered the general as he came
slowly to his feet.

She gave a little cry, and running to him hid her face against his arm.

"In jail!" she moaned, and her imagination and her ignorance clothed the
thought with indescribable horrors.

"Understand, dear, he isn't even indicted yet and he may not be! It's
bad enough, of course, but it might be a great deal worse. Now what am I
to tell him for you?"

"Wait," she said, slipping from his side. "I will write him--"

"Write your letter then," said her father. "I'll order the horses at
once," he added, as he quitted the room.

Ten minutes later when he drove up from the stables, Elizabeth met him
at the door.