of the morning
until he came up. They went inside together, Moses eagerly unfolding
his errand.

"I've been tellin' a kid 'bout Dr. Dudley and you," he began. "He's
sick, awful sick, and his father wouldn't have no doctor, and Chris he
keeps a-growin' worser 'n worser. So I said how Dr. Dudley could cure
him quicker 'n lightnin', and I guess he'll bring him up--he 'most
promised."

"It might be better for me to see him first," observed the physician.

"No, sir! he said 'xpressly for you not to come!"

"Then I can send the ambulance--"

"No, he don't want that neither! He's goin' to bring him right in his
arms. Why, I could myself--easy! He's the littlest kid, an' han'some!
My, he's a beaut! Jus' wait till you see him! He ain't but nine years
old. He goes to my school, or did before he was sick. His father's got
the money--you bet! An' my! he thinks that kid's it! He is, too! I
guess they'll be here pretty soon--he 'most promised."

On the strength of Moses Cohn's story, Dr. Dudley ordered a bed to be
prepared for the probable patient; but he did not arrive until evening
and Polly had given up his coming. Then the father insisted on a
private room for his little son, remaining himself to see that
everything was provided for his comfort.

"Good-bye, Chris! Keep up a big bluff! Daddy'll be here in the morning
sure!" That was what the attending nurse overheard of the parting. A
minute after the door had shut, she discovered her little patient
shedding silent tears for "daddy"; but he brightened quickly at her
cheering words, and soon dropped into a quiet sleep.

Polly was anxious to see the boy of whom Moses had told her, but the
slow fever from which he was suffering kept him a stranger for many
days. When, at last, she was allowed to pay him a visit, even Moses'
description of his friend had not prepared her for the beautiful wisp
of a lad with the sky-blue eyes and the red-gold hair. Polly thought
she had never seen so lovely a face. Her smile brought a shy response
from the pillow, though talk did not at once flourish.

"Father says you are better," Polly ventured.

Only a wee nod answered her.

"I've been wanting to come in before," she persevered. "Moses Cohn
told me about you."

A faint smile.

"Do you like it here at the hospital?" Polly questioned adroitly.

No smile now, only an added wistfulness. Then courtesy brought a soft
response.

"I like it evenings, when daddy comes."

"It's nice you