"What on earth has happened, Betty?" she demanded impatiently, although her voice was so faint it was difficult to hear. "What are you and Mollie and I doing in a room I never saw before, with me feeling as if I had been out of the world and then gotten only half-way back into it again?"
At the sound of her sister's voice Mollie had also moved toward the bed. She was distressingly white, her soft blue eyes had dark circles around them and she seemed utterly spent and exhausted.
Quickly Polly reached out her weak hand.
"What is it, Mollie Mavourneen?" she asked nervously, using the name of their childhood.
Then before either woman replied: "Oh, I remember," she said faintly. "There was a dreadful lot of smoke in my room and I got to the door somehow. Bobbin was there and I can't recall anything else."
This time Polly's fingers clung tightly.
"Was any one injured? Was your lovely house burned down?" she inquired.
But Mollie could only shake her head, while the tears ran slowly down her soft cheeks.
However, Betty spoke reassuringly. "It is all right, Polly dear. No one is in the least hurt. We were afraid for a while you had been stifled by the smoke, but you are perfectly well now. And Billy says the house has been saved. Of course, it has been a good deal damaged inside, but that can soon be restored."
Polly smiled. "Then for goodness sake do put Mollie to bed! She looks like a ghost and I am terribly sleepy myself. I have been ever since eight o'clock last night and I've no doubt it is now nearly morning."