The Doctor’s eyebrows went up.  “Don’t I?” he returned meekly.

“You don’t act as if you did,” Polly sighed; “and I want you to, for she’s so sweet and little and—­cuddly, you know.  You could n’t call High Price cuddly; could you?”

“It is n’t a term I should apply to her,” agreed the Doctor, with the hint of a smile.

“Miss Lucy would have liked Popover going to get along without Miss Lucy, ’specially at bedtime.”

“What does she do then?”

“Oh, we tell stories!—­at least, I do, and sometimes she does, and generally we sing—­real soft, you know, so it won’t disturb anybody.  Then she says a little prayer, and we go to bed.  Dear me, how we shall miss her!  Why, the other night, when Aimee’s arm ached, Miss Lucy took her right in her lap, and rocked her to sleep!  And when little Isabel cries for her mamma, Miss Lucy’s just as nice to her, and cuddles her p so sweet!  This is the way High Price will do:  she’ll say, ‘Is-a-bel’” (and Polly’s tone was in almost exact imitation of the nurse’s measured accent), “’lie still and go to sleep!  The ward must be kept quiet.’”

Dr. Dudley laughed.  Then the said gravely:—­

“Do you think that is really fair—­to accuse Miss Price of what she may never do?  Besides, Polly, it is n’t quite respectful.”

“No, I suppose it is n’t,” the little girl admitted.  “Excuse me, please.  But I wish you could know the difference between High Price and Low Price.”

The Doctor’s eyes twinkled; but Polly, all unseeing, went on:—­

“How soon do you think Miss Lucy’ll come back?  Where is she now?”

“She has been assigned to one of the women’s wards.  It is uncertain when she will be changed again.”

“Well, I s’pose we’ll have to stand it,” sighed Polly philosophically.  “Why, Popover!” for the kitten had come up unnoticed, and now jumped to the Doctor’s knee.  “Is n’t she cute?  Brida thinks lots of her—­there!” she broke out compunctiously, “I forgot all about Brida, and she does n’t know what’s become of her!  I must run up and tell her.  Will it be very much trouble to keep her here till to-morrow?  Thin I’ll carry her home.”

“Suppose we taker her home in the auto, after tea?”

“Oh, lovely!”

Dr. Dudley was looking at his watch.

“Is it ’most tea-time?” Polly inquired.

“They are probably all through up in the convalescent ward,” he laughed.  “You’d better come into the dining-room and have supper with me.”

“Oh, thank you; that will be nice!  I’ll run up and tell Brida, and then I’ll come.”

Chapter IV

David

Dr. Dudley had been the rounds of the convalescent ward, to see how his patients were progressing.  Now he had paused at the small table by the window, where Polly was waiting to carry some medicine to Linus Hardy.