Polly of the Hospital Staff Part 38

"It must be rather troublesome to be in such demand," the Doctor smiled.

"It is," responded Polly between a laugh and a sob.

The sat for a while in silence, Polly's head nestled on the broad shoulder.

Finally Dr. Dudley spoke. "Can you keep a secret?"

"I think I could--I know I could," she answered slowly; "but I never have any to keep."

"I am going to let you into one," he smiled; "but you must n't breathe a word of it to anybody."

"Oh, I won't! I won't tell it as long as I live!" she declared solemnly.

He laughed. "This will not be so great a tax on your patience as all that. I hope the secret will be out in a month. The thistledown, what should you say if I should tell you that Miss Lucy and I are going to be married?"

Polly sat up straight, her eyes round with astonishment.

"Truly?" she cried.

"Truly!" he nodded.

"Why-ee! I never thought as you like Miss Lucy very much! You acted just as if you like High Price better!"

The Doctor's shoulders shook with soft laughter.

"And won't Miss Lucy be nurse up in the ward any more?" Poly queried.

"Not after we are married. We are going to housekeeping. You know the little brown cottage just beyond Colonel Gresham's?"

"The one with vines all over the piazzas?"

"Yes. That is to be our home."

Polly had dropped back on the Doctor's shoulder, and he, absorbed in his happy dreams, did not look down to note the shadow that suddenly swept all joy from the little face. When she spoke again, it was the tone rather than the words that brought him to himself with a pang of compunction.

"That--won't be so very far away," she faltered.

"Oh, Polly!" with a quick tightening clasp, "you did n't suppose we would leave you behind?"

She glanced up in sudden wonder and hope.

"Our home would n't be home without you. You are going with us, to be our own little daughter! We have it all planned; it has only awaited your sanction."

Polly lay very still, big teardrops trickling down her cheeks.

"You want to go, Thistledown?" the Doctor asked softly.

"Oh," she breathed, "I don't--dare--speak, for fear--it is n't real! It is so beautiful!" She stroked his big hand with her slender little fingers.

"It is very real," he smiled. "You need n't be afraid. We cannot give you the splendid things that you would have with Mrs.

Jocelyn; but I can promise you all the love that any little girl could wish for. We want to make your life so happy that you will lose sight of troublesome times that have gone before."

"I could n't help being happy with you and Miss Lucy." And Polly suddenly sprang up, flinging her arms around the Doctor's neck, and resting her cheek against his with almost a sob. "Oh, I wish mamma knew!" she whispered. "Do you s'pose she does?"

"We will surely hope so," he answered. "It seems to me that Haven is nearer than some people believe."

"It would make her so happy," Polly went on. "I do wish you could have known mamma. She was such a dear!"

"I am glad to have so close a friends.h.i.+p with her little daughter," smiled the Doctor.

Light raps at the door made Polly slip to her feet, and sent Dr.

Dudley across the room. Polly hurriedly brushed away the only remaining tear, and looked up to greet Miss Hortensia Price.

The nurse had come to talk with Dr. Dudley about a patient, and Polly went over to the couch, and searched among the parcels for a certain package. Her fingers trembled with joyous excitement.

The world had suddenly turned rose color. Every sorrow had flown away. Even the grief which had been ever present with her for nearly three years was for the moment swallowed up in the joy of believing that mamma knew! She came upon the package she sought, examined it carefully to make sure that it was the right one, and then went, a little shyly, to Miss Price. She waited for Dr.

Dudley stopped talking.

The lady received the holiday-attired parcel with a surprised look.

"Mrs. Jocelyn bought some presents," explained Polly, "for me to give to my friends, a I chose Robert Browning's 'Poems' for you.

I hope you'll like it."

"Like it! Why, you dear child!" Miss Price dropped the book in her lap, and caught Polly's hands in hers. "How did you ever guess that Browning is my favorite poet?"

"You said so, one day, when we were playing Authors, up in the ward."

"And you remembered!" She began untying the ribbon. "I was thinking only yesterday that I must have a copy."

The volume was richly bound, and beautiful with ill.u.s.trations.

Miss Price fingered it with the caressing tough of a booklover.

If her thanks were a bit conventional, Polly knew that back of them lay real grat.i.tude and appreciation.

The little girl went back to her parcels with an added gladness.

She began piling them on her arm.

"Don't carry too many," warned Dr. Dudley. "I'll take them up for you."

"I will bring some along when I come." Promised Miss Price.

So Polly put back all but two dolls and a few small packages, and started upstairs humming softly a gay little air.

Presently the song was hushed by happy thoughts. To think of living in a dear little cottage, all alone with Miss Lucy and Dr.

Dudley! To sit down at the table, three times a day, with them both! And at bedtime! There was never room for jealousy in Polly's heart; but sometimes when Miss Lucy cuddled the little ones in her arms, her mother-hungry should felt starved out of its rightful food. And now!--she could almost feel the dear arms around her! She stopped halfway up the second flight, and bent her head reverently.

"O Lord Jesus, I think thee!" she whispered. "Please let mamma know how beautiful it is going to be! For Thy Name's sake.

Amen."

The door of the ward was open; but so light were her footfalls that she stood on the threshold a moment before being noticed.

Then came a shout and a rush and such frantic huggings that Polly and her parcels seemed in danger of coming to sorrow.