“Well, I declare!” he exclaimed, “what’s all this?”
“My friend fainted,” said Dorothy, before anyone else had time to speak, “and we are trying to revive her. We are anxious to start off for North Birchland in time for the five-twenty train, we thought we had better have your assistance.”
“I’ll tell you how it was, Doc,” started the police officer, in an unsteady voice. “These girls—”
“Dad, do be quiet,” interrupted the daughter. “The doctor has no time to listen to stories. He wants to see what the young girl needs.”
The doctor felt of Miette’s pulse, listened to her heart, and asked some questions.
Dorothy saw how delicate the child looked—it was that ethereal beauty that so attracted the Glenwood girls, but they had not attributed the unusual daintiness to ill health.
“You are not her sister?” the doctor asked of Dorothy.
“No, but she is a very dear friend of mine.”
“And you belong at the Cedars—Mrs. White’s niece?”
“Yes,” replied Dorothy, “I live there. I am Major Dale’s daughter.”