he had been shot; but he did not faint, nor gasp, nor utter a sound; he
only looked at her so long and sorrowfully, that she ran to him, and
covered his pale face with her own brown curls, kissing him, and wiping
from his cheek her starting tears.

"Emmy, dear--I can tell you--and I--no, no, not now, not now; if he
comes back--then--then; poor children! Oh, the sin of secresy!"

"But, dearest sir, do not be so sad; Charles has happy news, he says."

"Happy, child? Good Heaven! would it could be so!"

"Indeed, indeed, a week ago he was as miserable as any could be, and so
was I; for he heard something terrible about me--I don't know what--but
I feared I was a--Pariah! However, now he is all joy, and coming home
again as soon as possible."

The general shook, his head mournfully, as physicians do when hope is
gone; but still he looked perplexed and thoughtful.

"You will show me the letters, dear, I dare say: but I do not command
you, Emmy; do as you like."

"Certainly, my own kindest guardian--all, all, and instantly."

And flying up to her room, she returned with as much closely-written
manuscript as would have taken any but a lover's eye a full week to
decipher. The general, not much given to literary matters, looked quite
scared at such a prospect.