Mrs. Haddon said nothing for so long that Billie began to think she had not heard her question. Then the woman turned and faced the girl, holding a steaming cup of beef broth in her hand. “I’ve kept them in bed, too,” she said. “I was afraid they had caught cold, and then, too—one feels less hungry if one doesn’t move about.” Then abruptly she turned and once more left the room. Billie would have followed, but the thought that perhaps Polly Haddon would not wish her to held her back. The woman had accepted the food for her children’s sake, because they were practically starving. But in spite of that she was very proud. Perhaps she would not wish to have Billie see the poverty-stricken bareness of the rooms beyond. So Billie stayed in the kitchen and waited. Her eyes strayed nervously to an alarm clock that ticked away on a shelf over the sink. She wished the girls would come with the doctor. If little Peter was as sick as his mother thought he was, every minute might be precious. And besides that, they must get back to school. Then she heard the girls’ voices mingled with the gruff tones of a man—the doctor, of course—and her heart jumped with relief. The next moment the door was flung open and Laura and Vi came in, followed by an immense man who seemed to completely fill the narrow doorway. Then Polly Haddon appeared in the doorway between the two rooms, an empty cup in her hand. At sight of the doctor she set down the cup and motioned him eagerly into the other room. The latter glanced curiously at Billie, flung his hat on the kitchen table in passing, and disappeared with Mrs. Haddon into the sick room. “Just luck that we happened to catch the doctor on his way out,” panted Laura, for the big man had hustled the girls back to the cottage on a run. “Say, Billie,” she added, her eyes lighting on the opened hamper, “I see you did the trick. Any bones broken?” “Tell us about it,” begged Vi. “I’ll tell you on the way home,” said Billie, her eye once more on the clock. “Miss Walters told us not to stay long, you know. We were to come right back.” “Gracious, look at the time!” cried Laura, in consternation, following Billie’s eyes to the clock. “Miss Walters will think we have eloped.” “I wish we could wait and see what the doctor says,” protested Vi, hanging back, and just then Billie raised a warning finger. “Listen,” she said. The doctor had raised his voice for a moment and his words came clearly to the girls where they stood near the door. “The boy is very sick, Mrs. Haddon,” he said. “It will take good nursing to pull him through and plenty of nourishing food.” He lowered his voice again and the rest of what he said was lost in a meaningless murmur. In the kitchen the girls stared at each other. “Plenty of nourishing food,” whispered Billie. “Where is he going to get it?” “I guess,” said Laura, as she opened the door, “it is up to us!” CHAPTER VII—SETTLING A SCORE