CHAPTER III. HELP.
“Papa! papa! there is an accident on the line!” cried Miss Fordyce, running into her father's study, where he sat surrounded with books. “I saw it from the door!”
“Hush!” returned the old man, and listened. “I hear the train going on,” he said, after a moment.
“Part of it is come to grief, I am certain,” answered his daughter. “I saw something fall.”
“Well, my dear?”
“What shall we do?”
“What would you have us do?” rejoined her father, without a movement toward rising. “It is too far off for us to be of any use.”
“We ought to go and see.”
“I am not fond of such seeing, Alexa, and will not go out of my way for it. The misery I can not avoid is enough for me.”