She spoke to him.
"There isn't anything--yet.

He sent the telegram to mamma.

I shall stay with you, now, no matter what you say." She sat beside him and put her head down on his shoulder, and though for a moment he appeared not to notice it, when Minnie came out on the porch, hearing her father at the door, the old scholar had put his arm about the girl and was stroking her fair hair softly.
Briscoe glanced at them, and raised a warning finger to his daughter, and they went tiptoeing into the house, where the judge dropped heavily upon a sofa with an asthmatic sigh; he was worn and tired.

Minnie stood before him with a look of pale inquiry, and he shook his head.
"No use to tell _them_; but I can't see any hope," he answered her, biting nervously at the end of a cigar.

"I expect you better bring me some coffee in here; I couldn't take another step to save me.