"M—hm," nodded David.
"Doodles was here this noon," Polly went on. "Something was the matter with the car, and so he ran over while Murray was fixing it. The Doctor says Mr. Randolph may go to ride to-morrow if it is pleasant."
"When shall you see him?" asked David.
"Soon as ever I can—to think of Miss Nita's being shut up there, and my not being able to get to her!"
"It wouldn't do any good to telephone," mused David, "or to write a note."
"I'm afraid!" Polly shook her head. "If she'd grab those cards from Mr. Randolph's boxes of roses, she'd take a letter. What do you suppose she did it for?"
"Didn't want her to know who sent them."
"But why?"
"Oh, probably she's in love with him," replied David carelessly.
"Miss Sniffen?" Polly's voice was flooded with astonishment.