The next day the hateful news was bruited abroad that Tremaine, the dashing Tremaine, was imprisoned for robbery! His fashionable friends wisely shook their heads, and raised their hands, and uttered sundry exclamations. But they stood aloof—not one offered to go forward as bail for the unfortunate man. Not one of Mrs. Tremaine’s gay lady visiters went to speak a word to the humbled woman as she sat writhing under her disgrace. But we forget—there was _one_! Fanny Dunning, like a ministering angel, strove to soothe and comfort her, promised that her husband would do his utmost to aid Mr. Tremaine, and, when the mortgage on the house was foreclosed, took the weeping Sophia to her own home and was to her as a sister. CHAPTER IV. It was not in human nature to forget the repeated slights and insults with which Tremaine had sought to wound the feelings of his old school-mate; but it was in human nature to imitate the divine exemplar, to forgive injuries, and to return good for evil, and Robert Dunning promised Sophia that he would do all in his power to effect the liberation of her husband. For this purpose it became necessary that he should visit Tremaine in prison. But the culprit obstinately refused to see him, until at length, finding the time draw near when he would be publicly arraigned at the bar, he consented to his admittance. Dunning gave him to understand that he must know the facts of the case, at the same time assuring him that he would plead his cause with pleasure, and that there was no doubt of his acquittal. “The thing can be easily managed,” said Tremaine, doggedly—“I intend to plead an alibi.” Dunning started. “Is this necessary, Mr. Tremaine? I thought the charge could not be proven against you?” “Nor can it, if you are the expert lawyer you are said to be.” “Mr. Tremaine, let us understand each other. Is it important that you should plead an alibi?” “It is.” “Then I regret that I cannot undertake your cause. I was still under the impression that you were innocent.” “And who dares say I am not? Did you, sir, come here to entrap me in my words? Who will dare say I am not innocent, when the most famous lawyer in town shall have proven that I was far from here on the night of the robbery?” The last words were said in a sneering and almost contemptuous manner. “I must repeat my regret that I cannot undertake your cause, while at the same time I assure you that I shall be silent as to what has transpired between us.” “Puppy!” exclaimed Tremaine, thoroughly enraged. “Who asked you to undertake it? Who asked you to come and thrust yourself upon me? Puppy—plebeian! did I seek advice or assistance from you?” “Mr. Tremaine,” replied Dunning, with a calm and gentlemanly dignity—“Mr. Tremaine, it is vain talking in this manner. I came to you in the spirit of kindness—but my errand has been a fruitless one.”