he General heard it. His face grew as pale and as rigid as the face
of a corpse; the blood seemed to leave his heart; his lips grew
white; he dropped her hands, and sat regarding her with eyes in which
there was nothing less than horror. The woman saw it, and once more
fell with a low moan to the floor.

"My God!" groaned the General at last, and said not another word, but
sat rigid and mute while the woman lay on the floor at his feet. The
horror which that word had caused for some time overmastered him, and
he sat staring vacantly. But the horror was not against the woman who
had called it up, and who lay prostrate before him. She could not
have been personally abhorrent, for in a few minutes, with a start,
he noticed her once more, and his face was overspread by an anguish
of pity and sympathy. He raised her up, he led her to a couch, and
made her sit down, and then sat in silence before her with his face
buried in his hands. She reclined on the couch with her countenance
turned toward him, trembling still, and panting for breath, with her
right hand under her face, and her left pressed tightly against her
heart. At times she looked at the General with mournful inquiry, and
seemed to be patiently waiting for him to speak. An hour passed in
silence. The General seemed to be struggling with recollections that
overwhelmed him. At last he raised his head, and regarded her in
solemn silence, and still his face and his eyes bore that expression
of unutterable pity and sympathy which dwelt there when he raised her
from the floor.

After a time he addressed her in a low voice, the tones of which were
tender and full of sadness. She replied, and a conversation followed
which lasted for hours. It involved things of fearful moment--crime,
sin, shame, the perfidy of traitors, the devotion of faithful ones,
the sharp pang of injured love, the long anguish of despair, the
deathless fidelity of devoted affection. But the report of this
conversation and the recital of these things do not belong to this
place. It is enough to say that when at last Mrs. Hart arose it was
with a serener face and a steadier step than had been seen in her for
years.

That night the General did not close his eyes. His friend, his
business, even his daughter, all were forgotten, as though his soul
were overwhelmed and crushed by the weight of some tremendous
revelation.

[Illustration.]

CHAPTER V.

THE FUTURE BRIDE.

It had been arr