"Eh, now! You don't say so! Things must be pretty bad over there!" observed Ma.
The girl nodded dumbly. She adored Mrs. Ronald.
"If I was you, beggin' pardon for the liberty," Martha addressed Mr. Frank, "I'd get a-holt of those doctors an' nurses from the city you have engaged. They was comin' up in two weeks, anyhow. You never can tell. This might be a false alarm, but then again it mightn't. Either way, we don't want to take no risks."
"I'll telegraph," said Francis Ronald dully.
"What's the matter with the telefoam? Ain't you got a long-distance connection here?"
While Central was clearing the wire, Katherine Crewe was ushered in. She hesitated on the library threshold, then came forward rapidly, her face more lovely than Martha had ever seen it, in its softened expression of human sympathy.
"I'm so sorry—I've just heard—I came to see if I could do something—be of any help," she stammered shyly.
Frank Ronald had risen and was about to reply, when Dr. Driggs pushed through the doorway, interrupting gruffly.
"I'm not quite satisfied with the way things are going. Nothing to be uneasy about, you know, but, under the circumstances, I'd like another man to talk the case over with."
"I've just called up the New York specialist. He and the nurses——"