"Nothing. That is, nothing serious. You'd been over-exerting. Nature stepped in and shut down the shop for a moment."
"Meaning—I lost consciousness? For how long? How came Slawson here? Did you send?"
Martha answered in the doctor's stead.
"No'm. I just happened along. My Sabina, she took it into her head this afternoon there was no place like home—an' she was glad of it. Her an' me disagreed on some triflin' matters, an' she threatened she'd leave if I didn't come to terms. I tol' her: 'I'm sorry you feel that way, but if you concluded you must go, why, I s'pose you must. We all enjoyed your s'ciety for the last five years, but the best o' friends must part, an' far be it from me to stand in your way, if you perfer to look for another situation, an' think you can better yourself. I'll do up your things for you, for luck!' So I did an' out she stepped, as bold as brass, with her clo'es done up in a bundle slung on the end of a old gulf-stick Mr. Ronald he give her brother Sammy, to carry over her shoulder. She ain't been gone above three hours, but I thought while I was bringin' up the evenin's milk, I'd ask if, maybe, she'd blew in here?"
Madam Crewe compressed her lips. "No. Even your baby would know better than to come here for a happy home," she said with a caustic smile. "On your way back, you'd better look for my child, who, also, has probably run away. It seems to be the fashion nowadays for youngsters to defy their elders."
Dr. Ballard gave Martha a look.
"Well, I must be movin'. I took the liberty to bring you a form o' Spanish cream I made this afternoon. It's kind o' cool an' refreshin', when you ain't an appetite for substantialler things."
Passing Katherine's door she paused and lightly tapped on the panel. There was no answer. She dared not take it on herself to turn the knob, so went slowly downstairs, and, finally, out of the house and grounds.
Once in the road she saw, a short distance ahead of her, an easily recognizable figure.
"Oh—Miss Katherine!" she called softly.