eeping or not. The rooms were fast growing
shadowy, and Polly felt that the lights would be company, so she lit
the gas upstairs and down, turning it low in her mother's room. Then
fetching her doll, she took a low rocker, and blue-eyed Phebe and
brown-eyed Polly sat down to watch.

There was a stir on the bed. Phebe's eyes were wide open, but she made
no sign when the sick woman rose totteringly to her feet. Polly's eyes
were shut tight, and her breathing soft and slow. She was dreaming of
Colonel Gresham and his beautiful Lone Star, when she awoke with a
start to find the bed empty and uncertain footsteps in the hall.
Leaping to her feet, and dropping Phebe with no ceremony, she bounded
to the head of the stairs, where her mother wavered on the top step.
Catching her gently, in a voice not quite steady, she asked:--

"Where are you going?"

"Oh, I thought I'd go down--and help you wash the dishes!" Mrs. Dudley
replied. "Poor child! you've had all the work to do."

"The dishes are all washed," Polly assured her, "and I am not tired.
Hadn't you better lie down again before the pain comes on?"

The sick woman suffered herself to be led back to the bed, where she
sat for a moment in silence.

"I'll wipe the dishes for you," she murmured, and began fumbling in
her lap. "Where are they?" she asked bewilderedly. "They are not
here."

"I put them up in the china closet," Polly answered. "Please lie down!
I will call you if I need your help."

At last she was on her pillow, and for a time lay quiet.

Polly lingered near, affright in her heart, Oh, if her father
were only there! For a long time she dared not move, but stood and
watched the quiet face. Then, suddenly, the lips began to mutter
unintelligible things, and Polly's eyes dilated in terror. That
September night, when Colonel Gresham was so near to death, came
vividly back to her.

"I'm afraid"--she whispered, but did not go on. With one, long,
anxious look she stole softly away and downstairs to the telephone.
She wished she had called Dr. Rodman sooner.

Her heart was beating painfully as she took the receiver in her hand.
No word came to her ear, nothing save a low sputtering of the wire.
She waited, and then gently pressed the hook. Still no answer. Again
and again, she made the attempt, until, at last, she realized the
truth--the wires were useless.

She sat for a moment, trying to decide what to do. Finally with
determination on her face she ran ov