Then, at the first opportunity Viola called the girls down to the end compartment, and told them that her mother had only just recovered from a serious illness.
"She had a dreadful attack this time," said Viola, "and she should never have come on this journey."
"Then why did she?" asked Tavia, in her blunt way.
"Well, she seemed so set upon it," declared Viola, "that the doctors thought it more dangerous to cross her about it than to allow her to come. Our doctor is on the train, but mother does not know it. I do wish she could get strong!"
The tears that came to the girl's eyes seemed very pitiable—every one of the party felt like crying with Viola.
Dorothy attempted to put her arms about the sad girl, but Viola was on her feet instantly.
"We must go back," she said.
"Then we can arrange to sit in another place," suggested Dorothy. "Perhaps if she were quiet she might fall off asleep."
Viola left the compartment first. There were people in the aisle—in front of her mother. What had happened?
"Oh!" screamed the girl. "Mother! Let me go to her!" and she hurried through the car, pushing aside the trainmen who had been summoned. "Mother! Mother!" called the frightened Viola, for her mother was so pale and so still!