So Jim Horton was silent, watching her anguish with pity and anxiety. But at last she grew calmer and sank into the chair, reading Barry Quinlevin's letter to Harry again.
"And yet this might refer to something—something else—" she pleaded, catching at any straw that would save her from this disgrace.
He shook his head.
"I wish I could reassure you—but I can't. The facts are too clear."
She was silent a moment, breathing hard.
"It was terrible for you to have to tell me this."
"Yes—but you understand that I had to, don't you?"
She bowed her head and he went on.
"And now I only want you to tell me how I can help you—how I can make things easier——"
"What shall I do? What can I——" She halted again, intimidated at the thought of her father. And then—