“No, the Doctor didn’t think she’d give out right away; he said she might last a good while.”

“Little he knows about it!” scorned Polly.

“Well, he said it right up and down!” put in Miss Crilly.

“It is too bad!” Polly drew a long, sighing breath.  “I don’t believe she’d have had any heart trouble at all, if Miss Sniffen hadn’t made this fuss!”

“The excitement has no doubt aggravated it,” commented Mrs. Albright.

“Is that all Dr. Gunnip said, that she had heart disease?” queried Polly.

“He didn’t stay long enough to say anything!” sputtered Miss Crilly.  “He walked in and walked out—­I wish I’d timed him!”

“You’d have had to look in a hurry,” remarked Mrs. Albright quietly.

“Guess he’s like a doctor my mother used to tell about,” observed Miss Crilly.  “You had to catch hold of his coat-tails if you wanted to ask him a question.  And he never would have consultation, no matter how sick anybody was.  He said, one could play on a fiddle better than two.”

A quick little smile ran round the group; but nobody laughed.  The present question was too serious.

“Miss Twining didn’t tell me much,” resumed Mrs. Albright.  “The Doctor had just gone, and I was in a fidget for fear Miss Sniffen would come back.  But I could see that he had upset her completely.  I don’t think, from what she did say, that he gave her any particulars.  He said she had got to be extremely careful.  She feels as if it was about over with her.”

“I wish father could see her,” fretted Polly.  “He wouldn’t frighten her so, even if he did have to tell her that her heart was in bad shape!  I hate Dr. Gunnip worse than ever!  Did he leave her any medicine?”

“Oh, yes!  I saw two little piles of tablets on the table.”

“Likely as not they’ll make her worse!” Polly got up.  “I’m going to see Mr. Randolph to-night!” she announced determinedly.

“No, no!” objected Mrs. Albright.  “Wait until morning!  It would only excite her more to have another doctor now.  She’d think she was in a worse condition than she is.”

“I’d wait if I were you,” agreed Miss Sterling.  “I think it will be better all round.”

“Well,” yielded Polly reluctantly, and sat down again.

“What you going to tell him, anyway?” questioned Miss Crilly a bit anxiously.

“Why—­everything!” Polly’s hands flew apart with expressive gesture.

“I’m afraid he won’t want to interfere.”

“He isn’t a fool!” retorted Polly.  “And when I’ve told him all I’m going to tell him, if he doesn’t interfere—­if he isn’t aching to interfere—­he will be one!”

Miss Crilly giggled.  “You’re the greatest!” she said admiringly.

The next morning Polly awoke with the vague consciousness that something of importance was at hand.  Then she remembered.  To-day she was to see Mr. Randolph!