taken from here as
soon as possible."

I reflected. "A hospital?" I suggested.

"She might be taken to a hospital, of course. But she is scarcely ill
enough for that. A good, comfortable home would be better. Somewhere
where she might have quiet and rest. If she had relatives I should
strongly urge her going to them. She should not be left to herself; I
would not be responsible for the consequences if she were. A person in
her condition might--might be capable of any rash act."

This was plain enough, but it did not make my course of action plainer
to me.

"Is she well enough to be moved--now?" I asked.

"Yes. If she is not moved she is likely to be less well."

I paid him for the visit; he gave me a prescription--"To quiet the
nerves," he explained--and went away. I was to send for him whenever his
services were needed. Then I entered the room.

Hephzy and Mrs. Briggs were sitting beside the bed. The face upon the
pillow looked whiter and more pitiful than ever. The dark eyes were
closed.

Hephzy signaled me to silence. She rose and tiptoed over to me. I led
her out into the hall.

"She's sort of dozin' now," she whispered. "The poor thing is worn out.
What did the doctor say?"

I told her what the doctor had said.

"He's just right," she declared. "She's half starved, that's what's the
matter with her. That and frettin' and worryin' have just about killed
her. What are you goin' to do, Hosy?"

"How do I know!" I answered, impatiently. "I don't see exactly why we
are called upon to do anything. Do you?"

"No--o, I--I don't know as we are called on. No--o. I--"

"Well, do you?"

"No. I know how you feel, Hosy. Considerin' how her father treated us, I
won't blame you no matter what you do."

"Confound her father! I only wish it were he we had to deal with."

Hephzy was silent. I took a turn up and down the hall.

"The doctor says she should be taken away from here at once," I
observed.

Hephzy nodded. "There's no doubt about that," she declared with
emphasis. "I wouldn't trust a sick cat to that Briggs woman. She's
a--well, she's what she is."

"I suggested a hospital, but he didn't approve," I went on. "He
recommended some comfortable home with care and quiet and all the rest
of it. Her relatives should look after her, he said. She hasn't any
relatives that we know of, or any home to go to."

Again Hephzy was silent. I waited, growing momentarily more nervous and
fretful. Of all impossible