"Why don't you tell me what it is?"
"I will when the time is ripe."
The merchant grunted. "Is it a love affair?"
Mrs. Witherspoon became newly concerned. "In one sense, yes," Henry answered. "It is the love of justice."
Witherspoon called his wife's attention by clearing his throat. "Madam, I may be wrong, but it strikes me that your son is crazy. Good night."
Henry left town the next morning. He went to New Jersey.
CHAPTER XXIV.
WORE A ROSE ON HIS COAT.
Henry was absent nearly a week, and upon returning he did not refer to the business that had so peremptorily called him away. Mrs. Witherspoon still had a fear that it might be a love affair, and Ellen had a fear that it might not be. To keep the young woman's interest alive a mystery was necessary, and to free the mother's love from anxiety unrestrained frankness was essential. And so there was not enough of mystery to thrill the girl nor enough of frankness to satisfy the mother. In this way a week was passed.