"Is Miss Nita out?" she asked of Miss Sniffen in the lower hall.

"I don't know," was the answer. She did not offer to look at the day-book on the desk.

Miss Lily came by, on her way upstairs, and said good-morning as she pa.s.sed.

Polly had reached the door, when a little cry arrested her. She turned to see Miss Lily half kneeling on the stairs, clutching the rail.

"Oh! are you hurt?" Polly ran up to her.

"Not much, I guess," was the tremulous answer. "I can't see, and the stairs are so wide! I fall every day or so!"

Polly helped her up. "I'd go close to the bal.u.s.trade, if I were you."

"Oh, no! I mustn't!" Miss Lily whispered, glancing down into the hall.

"She's gone," said Polly softly. "Come right up here! Afraid of scratching? 'T won't do any harm--with your soft slippers."

"She won't let me!" breathed the frightened woman.

"Oh, I guess she won't mind!" returned Polly easily. "That's what rails are made for--to cling to."

"What's the matter now!" broke in a cutting voice.

"Why, Miss Lily fell, and I'm trying to make her come up close to the rail, so she can get a good, firm hold; but she's afraid of scratching the stairs."

"Of course it will scratch--to go tramping over that polished wood!

She's to step on the carpet, as I told her! You're always interfering, Polly Dudley!"

"Miss Sniffen, I didn't mean to interfere; but Miss Lily can't see as well as you can, and--"

"She can see well enough! Her eyesight is good. There is no need of her falling."

"But she can't get hold of the rail away off in the middle!"

"Certainly she can reach it! Don't stand there talking nonsense!"

Miss Lily turned and hastened up the long flight. Polly watched her for a moment and then walked slowly down the stairs.

The superintendent waited at the foot, her face flushed and stern.

"You have made trouble enough round here," she said bitingly. "Now I think we'll stop it!"

"Why, Miss Sniffen, what have I done?"

"You're putting foolish notions into the heads of these old women--petting and pampering them in the way you do! To organize a walking-club for them, when they've got one foot in the grave--it's absurd!"

"Oh, they're not old--all of them!" broke in Polly. "Miss Nita isn't old!--or Miss Crilly!--or--"

"You need not enumerate! I know how old they are, and I know how old they say they are! To think of your coaxing them into such disgraceful escapades as you have! Those gray-haired women dancing out in a pasture lot! Oh, you needn't look so surprised! I know what you're up to, if I do stay home here! You were saucy on that occasion, and bold, too! Calling to pa.s.sing automobilists to come and dance with you! It was scandalous!"

"Why, Miss Sniffen,"--Polly's tone was gently explanatory,--"you can't have heard it straight! We didn't do a single thing out of the way! And I didn't call anybody! Mr. Randolph and Miss Puddicombe drove along, and Mr. Randolph said it looked too tempting, and wanted to know if they couldn't come and dance. That was all!"

The superintendent primmed her lips. "We won't discuss it any further. All I wish to say is that hereafter you may confine your calls to Wednesday afternoon, when we receive visitors."

Polly stood for an instant, dumb with surprise and dismay; then she took a step forward.

"Good-bye, Miss Sniffen!" she said in a low, tense voice, and pa.s.sed swiftly out into the sunshine.

She walked along, regardless of anything besides her own tumultuous thoughts, until, as she was turning in at her home entrance, she heard the old familiar call, "Pollee, Pollee, Pollee-e-e!"

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."