“Now, my dear, it’s useless to get excited. The trouble is all over and a new Mayor and police force are in charge of the city. But he is resting under a serious cloud at present. He is held in jail at Asheville on a charge of felony, and a charge of murder is being pressed.”
“In jail! in jail!” she cried incredulously while her eyes filled with tears.
“Yes, and Allan believes these ugly charges will be proved in the United States court, and he will be convicted.”
She did not seem to hear the last sentence.
“In jail!” she repeated, “my lover, to whom I have given my life, and you, my father, while I was three thousand miles away stood by and did not lift a hand to help him?”
“Has he not been my bitterest enemy, seeking to insult me!” thundered the General.
“No, he never insulted you, or spoke one unkind word about you in his life. Oh! this is shameful! God forgive me that I was not here!” Tears were streaming down her face.
“You hold me responsible for the crazy young scamp’s career?” cried the General indignantly.
“Not another word to me!” she exclaimed. “You shall not abuse him in my presence.”
The General was afraid of her when she used the tone of voice in which she uttered that sentence. He had heard it but once before, and that was when she told him she was a free woman twenty-one years old, and he had broken down. He looked at her now, fearing to speak. At length he said, “I have engaged a suite of rooms for you here at the Waldorf-Astoria, my dear, for the winter. I hope you will enjoy the season. Let us change this painful subject.”