Meanwhile, Edith's husband had been brought to trial for forgery,
convicted and sentenced to the State's prison for a term of years.
His partner came forward as the chief witness, swearing that he had
believed the notes genuine, the firm having several times had the
use of Mr. Dinneford's paper, drawn to the order of Granger.

Ere the day of trial came the poor young man was nearly
broken-hearted. Public disgrace like this, added to the terrible
private wrongs he was suffering, was more than he had the moral
strength to bear. Utterly repudiated by his wife's family, and not
even permitted to see Edith, he only knew that she was very ill. Of
the birth of his baby he had but a vague intimation. A rumor was
abroad that it had died, but he could learn nothing certain. In his
distress and uncertainty he called on Dr. Radcliffe, who replied to
his questions with a cold evasion. "It was put out to nurse," said
the doctor, "and that is all I know about it." Beyond this he would
say nothing.

Granger was not taken to the State's prison after his sentence, but
to an insane asylum. Reason gave way under the terrible ordeal
through which he had been made to pass.

"Mother," said Edith, one day, in a tone that caused Mrs.
Dinneford's heart to leap. She was reading a child's simple
story-book, and looked up as she spoke. Her eyes were wide open and
full of questions.

"What, my dear?" asked Mrs. Dinneford, repressing her feelings and
trying to keep her voice calm.