“You poor dear!” she cried. “Martin shall go immediately for Doctor Curum.”
Martin was back with the doctor before Tiny realized he had started.
“Well, well,” said the doctor, looking Tiny over, “this young lady has been having too good a time—eh?”
“Oh, Doctor,” cried the little old lady, “will she die? It is my fault. I gave her too much candy.”
“Don’t worry,” smiled the doctor, quickly opening his case. “These medicines will cure her.”
“I will stay with you, dear,” said the little lady, after seeing the doctor to the door.
Tiny soon fell asleep and did not wake until early daylight.
“My, I feel all right,” she thought, stretching her little arms over her head. “How glad I am! But what smells so queer? I believe it’s smoke! Oh, it is! Something’s on fire!”
She sprang out of bed. The little lady had fallen asleep in the tiny white rocking-chair on the other side of Tiny’s bed. She looked so sweet in her rose kimono with a sweet smile on her lips, that Tiny hadn’t the heart to waken her.
“How tired she must be,” thought Tiny. “I’ll find out where the fire is first.”