David was only a few yards ahead, and she waited.

“What is it?” he asked as he came up.

The ghost of a smile flickered on Polly’s face.

“I’ve just been shut out of the Home!” she said with almost a sob.

An angry light leaped in the boy’s eyes; but he spoke no word, only clinched his teeth.

They went up the walk together, Polly talking fast.  Mrs. Dudley met them in the hall, and the story was begun again.

“That woman!” cried the boy; “I’d like to go over and knock her down!”

“David!” chuckled Polly, with an admiring glance at his broad shoulders and athletic frame.

“It is terrible to think of those dear people being in her power!”

“Something must be done.”  Mrs. Dudley looked troubled.

“If only Mr. Randolph hadn’t been sick!” said Polly plaintively.  “But Doodles says he is better!” Her face brightened.  “Oh, David! did you know Doodles has been singing to him?”

“No.  I suppose that cured him.”  There was a little warning tone in the rich voice.

“It has helped,” Polly replied gently.  “It makes him forget the pain.  Mr. Randolph sends after him every day and has his man take him home again—­isn’t that nice?”

“M—­hm,” nodded David.

“Doodles was here this noon,” Polly went on.  “Something was the matter with the car, and so he ran over while Murray was fixing it.  The Doctor says Mr. Randolph may go to ride to-morrow if it is pleasant.”

“When shall you see him?” asked David.

“Soon as ever I can—­to think of Miss Nita’s being shut up there, and my not being able to get to her!”

“It wouldn’t do any good to telephone,” mused David, “or to write a note.”

“I’m afraid!” Polly shook her head.  “If she’d grab those cards from Mr. Randolph’s boxes of roses, she’d take a letter.  What do you suppose she did it for?”

“Didn’t want her to know who sent them.”

“But why?”

“Oh, probably she’s in love with him,” replied David carelessly.

“Miss Sniffen?” Polly’s voice was flooded with astonishment.

“Anything very surprising about that?” laughed David.

“Why, the idea!  He couldn’t!”

“No, he couldn’t, but she could.”

“I have thought of that,” assented Mrs. Dudley.  “I cannot account for her actions in any other way.”

“It’s so funny!” giggled Polly.  “And she probably knows he is engaged to Blanche Puddicombe!”

“That is what stumps me!” exclaimed David.  “Such a girl!”

“They say she has a fortune in her own name,” put in Mrs. Dudley.

“Fortune!” scorned the boy.  “I wouldn’t marry her if she would give me a hundred million!”

Mrs. Dudley laughed.

“She’d be better than Miss Sniffen,” said Polly.

“But to think of coming home to such a wife as she’ll make!” cried David.