“It is about the Home, Mr. Randolph, that I have been wanting to see you for so long.  I was coming right after Miss Twining got sick, and then you were ill yourself.  Before you were well enough to see visitors you went away, and there hasn’t been a single chance until now.  Oh, Mr. Randolph, do you know how affairs are going on over there?  Haven’t you ever guessed?”

“Why—­what do you mean, Polly?  Nothing wrong, is there?”

“Everything!” Polly’s hands dropped with emphasis into her lap.  “None of the ladies have dared say a word, because if they find any fault they are liable to be turned out.  So they have borne it all as well as they could.  I wanted to come to you a good while ago, but they wouldn’t hear to it.  Finally things got to such a pass that we four, Miss Nita, Mrs. Albright, Miss Crilly, and I, said that something must be done.  We thought you were the best one to tell, for you have always been such a friend—­we could trust you’”

“You can, Polly!” He smiled across to her.  “You need not be afraid of my divulging the source of my information.”

“Oh, I don’t care if folks do know my part in it, but the others would rather you wouldn’t give their names—­unless it is necessary.  Miss Sniffen turned me out weeks ago!”

“Turned you out?  For what?”

“Oh, because I told Miss Lily to cling to the balustrade so she wouldn’t fall!  That is, it started there.  She said I’d got the ladies into all sorts of scrapes.  She scolded me for lots of things—­one was that dance in the pasture.  She said it was scandalous.  I don’t care so much what she does to me, only my not seeing Miss Nita.  But the ladies are actually afraid of their lives!  When Miss Twining was abused so, those that knew wondered whose turn would come next.  Why, Mr. Randolph, Miss Sniffen almost killed Miss Twining!—­Oh, of course, she didn’t mean to!” For the man had started up with an exclamation of horror.  “I think she was thoroughly frightened when Miss Twining fainted.”

“But what did she do?”

“Why, she went up to Miss Twining’s room, late one night, and carried a riding-whip,—­she had threatened that afternoon to ‘flog’ her—­and it upset Miss Twining and brought on a fainting turn.  Now Miss Sniffen keeps her locked in all the time!  I don’t know what she would do if it weren’t for Mrs. Albright!  She rooms right across the hall, and her key fits the lock; so she goes in every little while.  There’s a card on her door, saying she’s too ill to see visitors.”

“That is the feeble-minded one, isn’t it?”

“No!” flashed Polly.  “She’s not feeble-minded any more than you are!  That’s just a bluff!  Miss Sniffen got scared and made up all that rubbish!  Miss Twining is beautiful.  I love her—­oh, I love her dearly!  She writes the nicest poetry!  Father says it is real poetry, too.”

“Why did Miss Sniffen wish to whip her?”