"It is a good thing that I am a trustee and director over at that hospital," she remarked, "so they won't try to fuss about our seeing the child, whoever she is. If it is only Rosanna—"
It was a swift ride. Every heart was beating quickly. If it was only Rosanna!
Entering the hospital, Mrs. Hargrave went to the superintendent's office, where a firm, stern looking woman met them.
"A child was hurt by an automobile last night and brought here," she said briefly.
Mrs. Hargrave interrupted her. "I want to see her," she said.
"It is not the Horton child, if that is what you mean," said the superintendent. "This was a short-haired child in a very ordinary dress. She was struck on the head and was unconscious for hours. We are surprised that no inquiry has been made."
"I am making one now," said Mrs. Hargrave crisply. "I said I wanted to see this child."
"You know it is against the rules, Mrs. Hargrave," the superintendent objected.
"Fiddle-dee-dee!" said Mrs. Hargrave. "What ward is she in?"
The superintendent gave up. She had known that she would. Mrs. Hargrave always had her own way. She led them down to the elevator, where they waited and waited with what patience they could gather until the car came slowly down and took them up to the general wards.