Don't ask questions," as Polly's lips moved.

Polly obeyed with an awful feeling at her heart. She glanced at
Phronsie's little bed; she was not there! Mrs. Fisher threw the pink
wrapper over her head; Polly thrust her arms into the sleeves, feeling
as if she were sinking way down. "Now come." And Mamsie seized her hand
and hurried her through her own room without another word. It was
empty. Father Fisher and Phronsie were nowhere to be seen. And now for
the first time Polly was conscious of a great noise out in the
corridor. It seemed to spread and fasten itself to a number of other
noises, and something made Polly feel queerly in her throat as if she
should choke. She looked up in her mother's eyes, as they sped through
the room.

"Yes, Polly," said Mother Fisher, "it is fire. The hotel is on fire;
you will be brave, my child, I know."

"Phronsie!" gasped Polly. They were now in the corridor and hurrying
along.

"She is safe; her father took her."

"Oh, Mamsie, Jasper and Grandpapa!"

"They know it; your father ran and told them. Obey me, Polly; come!"

Mrs. Fisher's firm hand on her arm really hurt Polly, as they hurried
on through the dense waves of smoke that now engulfed them.

"Oh, Mamsie, not this way; we must find the stairs." But Mrs. Fisher