on,--well, who knows what may
happen!"

"A cherry pudding may!" cried the irrepressible Elsie. "Oh, Miss
Lucy, I won't whine or cry, no matter how bad you hurt my hip when
you dress it--not the teentiest bit! See if I do!"

"Will Polly make up our stories for us?" queried Leonora Hewitt.

"Why, Miss Lucy has made one for all of us," laughed Polly. "We
are to be brave and patient and not make a fuss about anything,
and help everybody else to be happy--is n't that what you
meant, Miss Lucy?"

"Oh," replied the little lame girl, "guess that'll be a hard
kind!"

"Beautiful stories are not often easy to live," smiled the young
nurse; "but let's see which of us can live the best one."

"Polly will!" cried Maggie O'Donnell and Otto Kriloff together.

Chapter II

The Election of Polly

The convalescent ward was finishing its noonday feast when Miss
Hortensia Price appeared. Miss Hortensia Price was straight and
tall, with somber black eyes and thin, serious lips. Many of the
children were greatly in awe of the dignified nurse; but Elsie
Meyer was bold enough to announce:--

"We're livin' a cherry-pudding story!" And she beamed up from
her ruby-colored plate.

"What?" scowled the visitor.

The tone was puzzled rather tan harsh, yet Elsie shrank back in
sudden abashment.

"Polly told us a story yesterday," explained Miss Lucy, the pink
deepening on her delicate cheeks, "and it made the children want
some cherry pudding for dinner. It is not rich," she added
apologetically.

The elder nurse responded only with a courteous "Oh!" and then
remarked, "What I came down to say is this: I shall send you
three cases from my ward at half-past two o'clock this afternoon."

"All right," was the cordial answer. "We shall be glad to
welcome them to our little family."

"High Price is awful solemn to-day," whispered Maggie O'Donnell
to Ethel Jones, as the door shut.

"High Price?" repeated Ethel, in a perplexed voice.

"Sh!" breathed the other. "She's 'High Price,' and Miss Lucy's
'Low Price,' 'cause she's so high and mighty and tall and
everything, and Miss Lucy's kind o' short and little and so
darling, and they ain't any relation either. I'm glad they
ain't," she added decidedly. "I would n't have Miss Lucy related
to her for anything!"

"Oh, no!" returned Ethel, comprehendingly, as she scraped her
plate for a last morsel of pudding.

The three "cases," which appeared in the convalescent ward
promptly at