There was a pause in which the eyes of both father and daughter plainly showed to each other the strength of the will that lay behind them.
"Hello—Hello," called Wilkinson, "is that you, Flomerfelt?"
"............"
"Look here, Flomerfelt, had you an idea that Beekman——" Then, parenthetically, to Leslie, who was beating against her father's intentions to betray her confidences with as much success as a bird beating against the bars of its cage: "Of course, I'll tell him. Do you think for one moment that the wishes of a silly girl like you will be allowed to stand in the way of our well-laid plans—not much!" Then through the phone: "Yes, this is Peter V. and.... Well, he has, and Leslie has refused him.... What's that?... Yes, he's gone.... No, she's here with me.... All right, I will." And with that he hung up the receiver, and turning round and facing the girl he announced: "Now, young woman, you will listen to my final word in this matter." But that word was not spoken, for at that moment there came a knock at the door and Jeffries, entering, announced a visitor for Miss Wilkinson.
XV
There was a flush on the face of Elinor Ilingsworth as she left the office of J. Newton Leech. For the hundred and first time, perhaps, she had crept into the presence of the Assistant District Attorney, trusting that he might have some good news for her. Her father was her only relative; she had no friends in New York; and her money was nearly gone. At first, when she had gone to the Tombs to see her father, the authorities had permitted her to have her talks with him in the counsel room, where Leslie had seen her father, but as the weeks passed into months, things changed, and it ended in Elinor's sitting on the outside of a cell, holding her father's hand between the bars. And as they sat there with bowed heads her father had told her, not once, but a hundred times, that he was guiltless of the murder of Roy Pallister. And Elinor believed and felt that some day the truth would be known. Every hour, therefore, when it was possible she spent in going to and fro, between the offices of Worth Higgins and Assistant District Attorney Leech. Singularly enough, she received more encouragement from the latter than the former; indeed, Higgins gave her but little hope. Nor did he tell her that a wealthy newspaper, for ulterior purposes, was employing him to fight for her father. Enthusiastic always at the crisis of a litigation, Worth Higgins, for some reason or other, had become cool, surly, sharp to Elinor, as time went on. Her visits annoyed him; he rebuffed her as often as he could. Leech, on the other hand, had been by no means chary of his promises to help her through her troubles; on the contrary, he was ever profuse, when the woman in question was pretty, and Elinor Ilingsworth was unquestionably pretty.
"I like to come here after seeing that old bear," Elinor had often said to the Assistant District Attorney. "Mr. Higgins is beginning to hate the sight of me."
"You see that I do not," invariably would be his answer; and, waving her to a seat, he would take one beside her and the two would chat.