"Impossible to see the lady," declared the doctor. "She has heart trouble, and it might prove fatal. I cannot permit it."
"See here, doctor," said Frank, "I have ridden a right good distance to see her, having heard of the disappearance of her daughter June. I have come to see what I can do about tracing the missing girl and restoring her to her mother. To start the work right, I should have an interview with the lady."
"Hum! hum!" coughed the doctor. "I don't know about it." He shook his head, but Merriwell caught his eye and continued to talk earnestly until the man gradually ceased his opposition.
"I'm afraid it's not just the wisest thing," he said. "But still it is anxiety over her daughter that has brought her to this pitiful condition. If you can do anything to relieve that anxiety, it may be better than medicine. But you must take care not to excite her more than possible."
This Frank readily promised, and they set out for the hotel.
Having ascended to the rooms occupied by Mrs. Arlington and those she had brought with her, the doctor entered first, being admitted by the faithful colored maid. In a few moments he came out and said:
"I forgot to ask your name, but Mrs. Arlington says she will see you. Come in."
Frank followed the doctor into the room.
Mrs. Arlington, partly dressed, was reclining on a[Pg 254] couch, propped up amid cushions. She was very pale and showed signs of great worriment and grief.