Oh, the wretched hours that passed before the doctor came! And the miserable hours that passed while he was there! That closed door seemed to shut Polly out from all the brightness and joy of the world and she felt she would never, never, never be happy again. Midday came, but no one wanted to eat. The dreary afternoon crawled slowly past and the great red sun began to sink. Polly could not swallow her supper; James had to carry it away again almost untasted.
“Don’t you go to being so down-hearted,” he said, kindly. “Little Miss Priscilla is coming out all right, never you fear. She’s had an ugly shock, but she’ll get over it by and by and be as right as a trivet again.”
“Oh, James, do you really think so?” Polly cried, longing to be comforted.
“Sure!” responded the butler cheerfully.
Late that night Hannah, stealing noiselessly up-stairs was surprised to hear Polly’s voice softly calling to her through the dark.
“Hannah! is that you?”
“Yes, Polly. Why aren’t you asleep, child?”
“I don’t know. How’s Priscilla?”
“Well, to tell the truth, the doctor isn’t ready to say. He isn’t worryin’ much about her bruises, but—but—well, we’ll have to wait, that’s all. She’s got considerable fever and the fright won’t leave her. She drops asleep for a minute or two and then starts up wide awake and shrieking with terror. She can’t get any rest, poor lamb. It’s that that makes us most anxious. Of course we don’t take for truth anything she says in this state, but it’s curious how contrary-minded people get when they’re not quite themselves. She has an idea you’re trying to hurt her and she cries out to us not to let you come into the room. I’ve told her mother over and over again you wouldn’t see a hair of Priscilla’s head harmed and you wouldn’t, now would you, Polly?”
Hannah paused a moment for Polly’s answer, but when none came she went on consolingly, “I’ve told Mrs. Duer not to mind the foolish things Priscilla says, for it isn’t believable that you would lay hands on her to shake her or that it was because of a falling-out you had that she fell over the side of the lodge. Only, you see, Polly, while Priscilla’s head is like this and she has such foolish sick fancies it wouldn’t do to excite her and so you’ll just have to keep out of the way for a while, and not fret to go to her. When she’s up and about again it’ll be all right, but for the present it’s pretty hard on us all—the waiting. Now, go to sleep, like a good girl and to-morrow you shall tell just how it all happened. You’re not to blame, I’m sure, Polly, but it will be better all round for you to let Mrs. Duer know the right of the case and that Priscilla’s saying you shook her and was the cause of her fall, is just something she’s dreaming and that it isn’t really true at all.”