“But, father, do you think it is all right?” asked Priscilla, in a trembling voice.
“Oh yes,” said Dr. Carlyon cheerfully. “I haven’t a doubt. I think I will go and send a telegram to Bessie to say I will just run down to-morrow for the day,” he added; “then I shall know for certain what is amiss. And, what do you say? Shall I take Prissy with me, instead of waiting till next week? The change will be good for her, I think, and, at any rate, she will have Loveday under her eye, and know that the policeman has not got her locked up in a cell. While I am there I can look about for rooms, too, for the rest of us. Don’t you think those are very nice plans, little woman?”--turning to Priscilla. “You would like to go down with me to-morrow, wouldn’t you, and help look for rooms for mother and Geoffrey?”
“Oh yes,” cried Priscilla, throwing one arm about her father’s neck and kissing him, “please, father;” and her face, though still very pale, grew brighter and less alarmed-looking.
“But--do you think it will be all right to wait till then? They won’t take away Loveday, or----”
“My dear, they couldn’t, and wouldn’t. Of course not; I expect we shall have a letter by the next post from Bessie. Now I will go to the office and send this telegram, and tell Bessie to be sure and let me know if I must come before to-morrow.” And away he went.
After all this Priscilla felt too tired and languid to do anything, even to sort out the toys she wanted to take with her, but when presently a telegram came back from Bessie to say, “All well, nothing serious,” she felt very much happier, and grew quite excited at the thought that she was going to see Loveday to-morrow, and to take her her red cloak, and she lay back very contentedly in her chair and watched her mother and Nurse looking over her clothes to see what they should pack, and then arranging them in her box.
By the post next morning came Bessie’s letter telling them all about Loveday’s and Aaron’s escapade. When Priscilla heard it she felt very frightened again, for it seemed such a dreadful thing that they had done. But still her father did not seem very much concerned, and, seeing him so cheerful, Priscilla tried to be so too, though in her secret heart she had a great dread of the morose, mysterious Mr. Winter, and did not feel at all sure that, after all, he would not fulfil his threat, and send for a policeman.