She gave a little cry, and running to him hid her face against his arm.
"In jail!" she moaned, and her imagination and her ignorance clothed the thought with indescribable horrors.
"Understand, dear, he isn't even indicted yet and he may not be! It's bad enough, of course, but it might be a great deal worse. Now what am I to tell him for you?"
"Wait," she said, slipping from his side. "I will write him—"
"Write your letter then," said her father. "I'll order the horses at once," he added, as he quitted the room.
Ten minutes later when he drove up from the stables, Elizabeth met him at the door.
"After you have seen him, father, come home at once, won't you?" she said as she handed him her letter.
"Yes, I am only going for this," he replied.
It was plain that his errand had not grown less distasteful to him. Perhaps Elizabeth was aware of this, for she reached up and passed an arm about his neck.
"I don't believe any girl ever had such a father!" she whispered softly.