“Is Judge Jessup there?”
“No, the judge has gone over to the court-house. This is Mr. Carter—Johnson Carter.”
“Oh, papa!” It was Emily, and he could almost feel her tears through the instrument. “Mama thought you might be at the judge’s office. Got any news about Leigh?”
“Not yet!” Mr. Carter was hoarse, but he cleared his throat. “How’s mama?”
“She’s all right; she’s just taken peppermint tea. Papa, I’ve got something to tell you.”
Her voice seemed to die away, but he heard her blowing her nose.
“What is it, Emmy?”
“F-Fanchon’s going—she’s got the expressman here for her trunks.”
“Glad of it!” said Mr. Carter dryly. “If she wants a taxi, I’ll send it.”
“Oh, papa!”