"Oh, we are wicked, are we, Scorpion?" said Mrs. Cameron, her fat hand gently stroking down Scorpion's smooth fur from tip to tail. "Never mind, Scorpion, my own; never mind. When the little demon of temper gets into somebody she isn't quite accountable, is she?" Flower wondered if any restraining power would keep her from leaping out of the window. But even the weariest journey comes to an end at last, and twenty-four hours after she had left Sleepy Hollow, Flower, feeling the most subdued, the most abject, the most brow-beaten young person in Christendom, returned to it. Toward the end of the journey she felt impervious to Mrs. Cameron's sly allusions, and Scorpion growled and snapped at her in vain. Her whole heart was filled with one over-powering dread. How should she find the Doctor? Was he better? Was he worse? Or had all things earthly come to an end for him; and had he reached a place where even the naughtiest girl in all the world could vex and trouble him no longer? When the hired fly drew up outside the porch, Flower suddenly remembered her first arrival--the gay "Welcome" which had waved above her head; the kind, bright young faces that had come out of the darkness to greet her; the voice of the head of the house, that voice which she was so soon to learn to love, uttering the cheeriest and heartiest words of greeting. Now, although Mrs. Cameron pulled the hall-door bell with no uncertain sound, no one, for a time at least, answered the summons, and Flower, seizing her opportunity, sprang out of the fly and rushed into the house. The first person she met, the very first, was Polly. Polly was sitting at the foot of the stairs, all alone. She had seated herself on the bottom step. Her knees were huddled up almost to her chin. Her face was white, and bore marks of tears. She scarcely looked up when Flower ran to her. "Polly! Polly! How glad I am you at least are not very ill." "Is that you, Flower?" asked Polly. She did not seem surprised, or in any way affected. "Yes, my leg does still ache very much. But what of that? What of anything now? He is worse! They have sent for another doctor. The doctor from London is upstairs; he's with him. I'm waiting here to catch him when he comes down, for I must know the very worst." "The very worst!" echoed Flower in a feeble tone. She tumbled down somehow on to the stair beside Polly, and the next instant her death-like face lay in Polly's lap. "Now, my dear, you need not be in the least frightened," said a shrill voice in Polly's ears. "A most troublesome young person! a most troublesome! She has just fainted; that's all. Let me fetch a jug of cold water to pour over her." "Is that _you_, Aunt Maria?" said Polly. "Oh, yes, there was a telegram, but we forgot all about it. And is that Scorpion, and is he going to bark? But he mustn't! Please kneel down here, Aunt Maria, and hold Flower's head. Whatever happens, Scorpion mustn't bark. Give him to me!"