"What article?" he asked.
"That story about our having delayed the passenger train with women and children on it and then having side-tracked them without breakfast, in order to give our car the right-of-way."
"Oh! yes. I believe I saw that. I see so many ridiculous things in the newspapers, I pay no attention to them."
"But, father, that was a terrible arraignment," said the girl.
"Of whom?" asked Mr. Leigh, with a little twinkle in his eye.
"Why, of you; of Aunt Sophia, of——"
"Of me!"
"Yes, and of me—of everybody connected with the road."
"Not of you, my dear," said Mr. Leigh, with the light of affection warming up his rather cold face. "Surely no one, even the anarchistic writers of the anarchistic press, could imagine anything to say against you."
"Yes, of me, too, though not by name, perhaps; but I was there and I was in a way the cause of the trouble, because the car was sent after me and Aunt Sophia, and I feel terribly guilty about it."