The rest soon scattered, and Miss Sterling was left alone to dream over her joy and to wonder what her friends would say when the truth came out.

In the afternoon she called at Dr. Dudley’s, and was disappointed not to find Polly.  The day was cold, with a raw wind, very unlike the day before; so after a short walk she returned home.

Mrs. Albright met her in the upper hall.

“Miss Crilly is sick,” she said anxiously.  “She is in terrible pain, and nothing relieves her.  She wants Dr. Dudley; but Miss Sniffen says it is not necessary.  I don’t know what to do!”

“Sh!” Miss Sterling held her answer to listen.  “I thought I heard a footstep,” she whispered.  “Is Miss Sniffen downstairs?”

“She went down.  I don’t care if she does hear me!  I’m getting desperate.”

“She ought to have a doctor,” Miss Sterling said, with wrinkled forehead.  “I wonder if I can be of any use—­I’ll come right up.”

The combined resources of the two were of no avail.  Miss Crilly grew worse,

“I shall die—­I know I shall!—­just as poor Miss Twining is going to!” wailed the sufferer.

“No, you won’t!” returned Mrs. Albright.  “You haven’t any heart trouble.”

“I’ve got something!” insisted Miss Crilly, writhing with pain.

Miss Sniffen appeared at the door with a bowl of steaming water and a bundle of cloths.  “I’m going to put these on,” she announced briskly.

“I tried hot water first thing,” said Mrs. Albright.  “It didn’t do any good.”

The superintendent gave no response.  She was busy administering the remedy.

“Don’t make such a fuss!” she reprimanded.  “Pain never killed anybody yet.”

“You’d better go back to your room, Miss Sterling,” she turned to say.  “No need of your staying here.”

There did not seem to be, and the request was obeyed without reply.

Later Mrs. Albright came upstairs to say that Miss Crilly was a little easier.  “I think she’s going to get on now,” she concluded.

“I hope so,” was the reply; “but call me if she should grow worse.”

“Yes, I will,—­though you couldn’t do any good,” she amended.

“I could get a doctor for her.”

“I don’t see how!” Mrs. Albright gazed questioningly into the steady gray eyes.  This was a new Miss Sterling.  “You can’t do anything with Miss Sniffen.”

“There are other people in the world besides Miss Sniffen.  If she needs a doctor she shall have one.  So let me know if the pain comes on again.”

Miss Sterling had been abed an hour or more when she was awakened by a gentle rap.

Mrs. Albright softly opened the door.

“She’s worse than ever; but Miss Sniffen won’t hear to calling the doctor.  She says if she isn’t any better in the morning she will send for him; but Miss Crilly insists that she can’t live till morning in such agony.  Miss Sniffen thinks she is scared to death, and of course fear doesn’t help matters.  But she does need a doctor—­I know that!”