“She let Leonora be monitor,” put in Elsie Meyer.  “I guess she’d ‘a’ let me, if I’d been up.”

“I wish she would come,” said Polly anxiously, “for I want to surprise her with Popover—­it’s Miss Lucy’s birthday, you know.”

“Somebody’s coming now,” and Cornelius O’Shaughnessy bent his head to listen. “’T ain’t her step,” he decided disappointedly, and the next moment the tall form of Miss Hortensia Price was seen in the doorway.

“Quick!  Keep her out o’ sight!” whispered Polly, pushing Popover’s little black head down under the sheet.

The stately young woman walked the length of the room without a word, and calmly sat down at the small table where Miss Lucy was accustomed to prepare her medicines and to make such notes as were needful.

As Miss Price took up the little memorandum book and began to look it over, Polly’s heart almost stood still with consternation.  She had come to stay!  Polly knew the signs.  Such sudden shifts were common enough in the hospital, but only twice, during Polly’s stay, had the occurred in the convalescent ward, and Miss Lucy had been in charge for so long now that she had ceased giving herself any worry over a possible change.

For a moment the little girl stood hesitant; then the sight of Brida, white and scared on her pillow, roused her to quick thought.  If she could only smuggle Popover down into Dr Dudley’s office before she was discovered!  Instinct told her that “High Price” would never tolerate a kitten in the ward.  She took one step forward.

“Me-ew!” sounded faintly from Brida’s cot.

The nurse raised her head, listened inquiringly, and then resumed her work of examining the patients’ records.

Polly stole nearer the bed.

“Me-ew!” came again, louder than before.  This time there was no mistaking its locality.

Miss Price sprang from her chair, and strode straight to where Brida lay trembling.  Popover’s insistence for more air and a free outlook was causing the coverlet to rise and fall in a startling way.

“How came that cat here?” demanded the nurse, pulling aside the bedclothing.

“I brought her,” answered Polly.  “She’s Brida’s kitty, and we were going to give Miss Lucy a birthday surprise.”

A faint smile flickered on the young woman’s face.  The she made a grab at the now frightened kitten; but the little creature slipped from her hand, and jumping to the floor dared towards the hall.

“Oh, me dirlin’ kitty!” wailed Brida.  “She’ll be losted!  Oh, Polly, ketch her!”

Polly, however, was already flying in pursuit of the terrified cat.

“Shut that door!” called the mistress of the ward, as the eager children rushed after.  “And stay inside, all of you!”

Cornelius O’Shaughnessy reluctantly obeyed the first order, and the rest trailed back in disappointment.  So exciting a race was not an everyday occurrence.