eagerly heard the story of Polly's midnight
trip in the physician's arms through the fearful storm. It had to
be told over and over again, and the more daring ones wished they
had been awake to see it all.

The details of what had taken place in the sick-room Polly wisely
withheld; but the girls and boys were undoubtedly more interested
in the account of the lightning's striking the familiar big oak
tree than they would have been in the more important part of that
night's strange story.

It was not many weeks afterward that Dr. Dudley brought Polly a
message.

"The Colonel says he feels slighted because you don't come to see
him, and I promised to send you over."

"OH, I shall have to go!" cried Polly. "I'll run right off and
change my dress."

Colonel Gresham was in a great chair by the window, and begged his
small guest pardon for not rising to greet her.

"I'm not quite firm on my legs yet," he laughed, "and I must n't
topple over, as Miss Batterson has left me for a whole hour."

"Oh, then I'll stay and wait on you!" beamed Polly. "And if you
get tired hearing me talk, you can go to sleep."

But the Colonel seemed very wide awake, and after a gay chat he
began:--

"Dr. Dudley has been telling me about bringing you over here in
that thunderstorm, and how you quieted me when nobody else
could."

"Yes," replied Polly innocently, "You thought I was your little
niece, Eva, and--"

"What?" broke in her listener, amazement in his tone.

"Oh, I s'posed he 'd told you!" cried Polly, in dismay. "I ought
not to have--"

"Yes, you ought!" he interrupted. "What did I say?"

Polly hesitated. She was not at all sure that Dr. Dudley would
wish her to disclose the wanderings of the Colonel's mind, since
he had not done so himself. But there seemed no other way, so she
replied simply:--

"Oh, you did n't say much! Only you kept calling for Eva, and so
I pretended I was she, and I called you Uncle David. And you
heard the rain, and thought it was dripping on your head, and you
wanted me to hold my hand up to catch it. That was about all."

Polly cast furtive glances at the Colonel. She could make nothing
of his face, beyond that it was very grave. She wondered if he
were displeased with her.

After a time he spoke.

"You have done me a kindness that can never be repaid. Such
debts cannot be balanced with money. So we won't talk about pay.
But I should like to do something for you--give you a sort