Every one said afterward that it was the cat that did it. Certainly, if Fluffy had not poked an insistent paw and nose against Pollyanna's unlatched door, the door would not have swung noiselessly open on its hinges until it stood perhaps a foot ajar; and if the door had not been open, Pollyanna would not have heard her aunt's words.
In the hall the two doctors, the nurse, and Miss Polly stood talking. In Pollyanna's room Fluffy had just jumped to the bed with a little purring “meow” of joy when through the open door sounded clearly and sharply Aunt Polly's agonized exclamation.
“Not that! Doctor, not that! You don't mean—the child—will NEVER WALK again!”
It was all confusion then. First, from the bedroom came Pollyanna's terrified “Aunt Polly Aunt Polly!” Then Miss Polly, seeing the open door and realizing that her words had been heard, gave a low little moan and—for the first time in her life—fainted dead away.
The nurse, with a choking “She heard!” stumbled toward the open door. The two doctors stayed with Miss Polly. Dr. Mead had to stay—he had caught Miss Polly as she fell. Dr. Warren stood by, helplessly. It was not until Pollyanna cried out again sharply and the nurse closed the door, that the two men, with a despairing glance into each other's eyes, awoke to the immediate duty of bringing the woman in Dr. Mead's arms back to unhappy consciousness.
In Pollyanna's room, the nurse had found a purring gray cat on the bed vainly trying to attract the attention of a white-faced, wild-eyed little girl.
“Miss Hunt, please, I want Aunt Polly. I want her right away, quick, please!”
The nurse closed the door and came forward hurriedly. Her face was very pale.
“She—she can't come just this minute, dear. She will—a little later. What is it? Can't I—get it?”
Pollyanna shook her head.