“Hush,” cautioned Gloria. “Ellen, the doctor knows best. You surely want your mother to have help?”
“Oh, yes, but you’re here.”
“She can’t stay here,” promptly spoke up Trixy. “I suppose none of you has had anything to eat all day.”
“Come outside a moment,” suggested Gloria in a subdued voice. “Ellen, you keep the others in here,” she then ordered quite authoritatively.
At the door, in the early dusk, the doctor and his two young aids quickly consulted. He showed his own relief when the hospital prospect loomed into a possibility.
“I have been afraid to leave her here,” he explained. “But that little witch Ellen—”
“She seemed to think her mother just couldn’t die unless her father said so,” injected Gloria, whimsically.
“Well, as long as you think it is safe we shall just bundle her in my car—” proposed Trixy.
“But the trouble is—” The doctor paused and turned his head aside thoughtfully.
“What?” asked Gloria.