[Illustration: "Phronsie, get a glass of water; be quick, child!">[
"What is it, dear?" she asked caressingly.
"Come out of doors," begged Polly, "I can't breathe here. Come, Mrs.
Cabot."
And Mrs. Cabot, her arms still around Polly, was drawn out to the old porch, Phronsie following. Then Polly shook herself free.
"Is it true?" she began—"I made Phronsie tell me—that Jasper," she caught her breath, but went on again hurriedly, "has left Mr. Marlowe?"
"Oh, dear me!" exclaimed Mrs. Cabot in consternation, "what shall I do? Yes; but I wasn't to tell you; Mr. King is coming back. Do wait, Polly, and ask him about it."
"I shall not wait," declared Polly passionately, facing her. "Tell me all you know, Mrs. Cabot; every single word."
"I don't know a thing about it," cried Mrs. Cabot in a frightened way, "only Mr. Cabot writes that Mr. King has made Jasper leave Mr. Marlowe. That's all I know about it, Polly," she added desperately, "and I wish Mr. Cabot had been asleep before he wrote it. Phronsie, oh! get a glass of water; be quick, child!" as Polly sank down on the old stone floor of the porch.