Elsie Meyer began her doleful suggestions.

"I wonder how often your Aunt Jane 'll let you come and see us.
P'r'aps she won't let you come at all--oh, my! If she don't,
maybe we'll never see you again!"

"Nonsense, Elsie! Don't go to conjuring up any such thing!"
broke in Miss Lucy's laughing voice. "Of course--why, Polly!"
For the little girl had been brought suddenly face to face with an
awful possibility, and her courage had given way. She was sobbing
on the foot of Elsie's bed.

A low rap on the half-open door sent Miss Lucy thither, and Polly
heard Dr. Dudley speak her name. A new terror took instant
possession of her heart. The Doctor had come to take her home!
She did not stop to reason. Dropping to the floor, she crept
softly under the cot, from there to the next and the next. Her
course was straight to the door through which the physician had
entered, and by the time he was halfway across the room she had
wriggled herself clear of the last cot, and was over the sill and
in the corridor, the twilight aiding her escape. Regaining her
feet, she darted noiselessly down the long hall. At the head of
the stairs she paused. On the floor below was a small alcove
where she might hide. Making sure that no one was in sight, she
sped down, but as she reached the lower step one of the nurses
opened the door opposite.

"What are you doing down here, Polly May?"

The question was pleasant, but the answer was miserably halting.

"I--I--thought--I'd just--come--"

"Did Miss Price send you for anything?"

This time the child detected a ring of suspicion.

"Oh, no! I--I--"

"Well, you'd better go right back. It is too late to be running
around for play. The halls must be kept quiet."

"Yes, Miss Bemont," responded Polly meekly, and turned to see
Dr. Dudley at the head of the flight.

There was nothing to do but to go forward, which she did, with
downcast eyes and a throbbing heart.

"Oh, here you are!" exclaimed the physician. "I've been looking
for you. I thought you would like to take a ride up to
Warringford. I shall be back before your bedtime, and Miss Lucy
says--why, Thistledown! What is the matter?"

The revulsion had been to great, and, leaning against the Doctor's
arm, Polly was softly sobbing.

The physician sat down on the stairs, and drew the fair little
head to his shoulder. In a minute he knew it all,--the sudden
fear that had assailed her, the creeping flight across the ward,
an