Gloria sighed with relief. Trixy always understood. But the doctor was leaving the bedside. Both girls stirred to meet him.
“Well, young lady,” he smiled into Gloria’s face, “this is where you have been, is it? I won’t make you vain or proud, but I will say it is a lucky thing you found these little ones when you did. Their mother might have slept, or she might have—well, it is a good thing you gave her the coffee, at any rate. She has been so weakened, the extra dose of medicine might have been hard to fight against.” He was rubbing his hands as all doctors do, a way that May once said was the scraping off of his sick touch.
“I am sorry I gave folks a scare. I did not intend to disappear,” said Gloria finally. “But there was really no time nor any way of getting word back.”
Doctor Daly did not raise his head. He was thinking very seriously and seemed greatly perplexed.
Trixy broke the silence. “What now?” she asked critically.
“I don’t know. This little woman—”
“Can she be taken to a hospital?” asked Gloria, eagerly.
“She could—but how?”
“Right in my car,” responded Trixy, decisively. “That was why I sent for Trixy,” exclaimed Gloria. Then they waited for the opinion of the physician. The children listened from their corners, fearing, they knew not what. Ellen, the manager, poked her head under the doctor’s elbow.
“Oh, you can’t take her away till father comes,” she exclaimed. “He would be wild!”