The return under such conditions would not be a vindication. It would be
a conviction of crime.
She would see the President at once and know the truth. The question cut
the centre of John Vaughan's character. The orderly who brought the note
was waiting for an answer.
She called from the head of the stairs:
"Tell Mr. Vaughan there is no answer to-day."
"Yes, Miss."
With quick salute he passed out and Betty stood irresolute as she
listened to the echo of his horse's hoof-beat growing fainter. It was
only six o'clock, but the days were getting shorter and it was already
dark. She could walk quickly down Pennsylvania Avenue and reach the
White House before dinner. He would see her at any hour.
In five minutes she was on the way her mind in a whirl of speculation on
the intrigue which might lie behind that sensational announcement. She
was beginning to suspect her lover's patriotism. A man could love the
South, fight and die for it and be a patriot--he was dying for what he
believed to be right--God and his country. But no man could serve two
masters. Her blood boiled at the thought of a conspiracy within the
lines of the Union whose purpose was to betray its Chief. If John
Vaughan were in it, she loved him with every beat of her heart, but she
would cut her heart out sooner than sink to his level!
She became conscious at last of the brazen stares of scores of
brutal-looking men who thronged the sidewalks of the Avenue.
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