Mrs. Dudley put her into an easy-chair, felt her pulse, smiled in happy assurance, and waited for the story.
Before it was finished, Polly peeped in.
"I thought it was your voice! What is the matter, Miss Nita?" She drew up a chair and sat down, folding her crimson robe about her.
Part of the tale was hurriedly retold.
"Doctor may come on the 11.55 train; if not, he can't get here before one o'clock."
"And Dr. Vera is watching with Dorothy!" cried Polly.
"So I told her," said Mrs. Dudley. "Dorothy is a very sick child; he cannot leave her. I would go over if I thought I could do any good."
"I'm afraid Miss Sniffen wouldn't let us in." returned Miss Sterling. "I think I'd better call up Mr. Randolph. He said to do it if—there was any trouble." Her face rivaled in color Polly's robe.
The young girl's eyes widened.
"When did he—" she began; but her mother interrupted.