Edith was paying a visit to a friend one day, the daughter of a lawyer. While conversing, the friend said—
"Poor Jordan? Have you heard of his misfortunes?"
"No! What are they?" And Edith turned pale. The friend was not aware of her interest in him.
"He was terribly cheated in some saw-mill property he bought," she made answer, "and has since lost every dollar he had. Yesterday he was sent to prison for debt which he is unable to pay."
Edith heard no more, but, starting up, rushed from the house, and flew, rather than walked, home. Her father was sitting in his private office when she entered with pale face and quivering lips. Uttering an exclamation of surprise and alarm, he rose to his feet. Edith fell against him, sobbing as she did so, while the tears found vent, and poured over her cheeks—
"Oh, father! He is in prison!"
"Who? Jordan?"
"Yes," was the maiden's lowly-murmured reply.
"Good heavens! Is it possible?"
With this exclamation, Mr. Page pushed his daughter from him, and leaving the house instantly, took his way to the office of the attorney who had conducted the suit in favour of Barnaby.