"But what did she do?"
"Why, she went up to Miss Twining's room, late one night, and carried a riding-whip,—she had threatened that afternoon to 'flog' her—and it upset Miss Twining and brought on a fainting turn. Now Miss Sniffen keeps her locked in all the time! I don't know what she would do if it weren't for Mrs. Albright! She rooms right across the hall, and her key fits the lock; so she goes in every little while. There's a card on her door, saying she's too ill to see visitors."
"That is the feeble-minded one, isn't it?"
"No!" flashed Polly. "She's not feeble-minded any more than you are! That's just a bluff! Miss Sniffen got scared and made up all that rubbish! Miss Twining is beautiful. I love her—oh, I love her dearly! She writes the nicest poetry! Father says it is real poetry, too."
"Why did Miss Sniffen wish to whip her?"
"Just because she wouldn't tell who gave her some money. She couldn't—she had promised not to! And it was her own money! But I must begin at the beginning, or you can't understand."
Polly drew a long breath, and recounted the details of the sad story.
"The next morning I happened to go over to see Miss Nita," she concluded, "and Mrs. Albright told me this. Miss Crilly was there, too. Miss Crilly rooms right next to Miss Twining and heard a good deal; but she didn't dare to stir."
Nelson Randolph gazed at Polly with troubled eyes, and rested his arm upon his desk.
"David Collins overheard something one night," she went on. "He was going up Edgewood Avenue when he came upon Mrs. Nobbs and a man,—probably her brother,—and what Mrs. Nobbs was saying made him keep along behind them, instead of passing as he was intending to do."