“Could n’t you—­take Elsie?” faltered Polly faintly.

“Elsie?  Well, Thistledown, I feel hurt!  Twice in one day!  Have you sworn off from auto riding?”

Usually this would have brought out a happy laugh, but now Polly merely answered, “No,” very soberly.

“I should n’t dare to risk a ride for Elsie until her hip is better,” the Doctor resumed.  “I’ll try to taker her some day, when she is a little further along.  Now, run and get you hat.  I’ll wait for you.”

Polly never quite forgot that ride.  The fresh, twilight air, fragrant with dewy blossoms; the exhilarating motion; the Doctor’s merry speeches;—­these would have been sufficient at any other time to fill her with joy.  Now she was but half conscious of them all; the dreadful ache in her heart over-powered everything else.  She wondered if Dr. Dudley felt as Miss Lucy did.  Or did he, with Miss Curtis, suspect her to be—­a thief!  She longed to cry out, “Oh, I did n’t!  I did n’t!  I did n’!” But, instead, she silently stared out on the dusky road, and wished herself at home, in her own little bed where she could let the tears come, and not have to push them back.

She was glad, in a vague kind of way, when the auto slowed up at the hospital entrance, and the Doctor lifted her out.  They walked up the flagging, hand in hand, the physician as silent as she.  She would have gone directly upstairs, but he drew her into his office.

“Now, what is it, Thistledown?” he asked gently, taking her in his arms.

She hid her face on his shoulder, and began to sob.

He let the tears have their way for a time, resting his cheek lightly on her curls.  Finally he spoke again.

“Is it about the ring, dear?”

She nodded.

“What have they been saying to you?” he questioned savagely.

“N-nothing to me,” she replied.  “I—­heard—­Miss Curtis—­ and Miss Lucy—­talking.  Miss Curtis—­she thinks I—­oh, dear!—­she thinks I—­took it!  You don’t think—­I—­took—­”

“No!” thundered the Doctor in so tremendous a voice that it Polly had n’t been in such depths of misery she would have laughed outright.

As it was, she caught his hand to her lips, and kissed it, saying, “You scared me!”

“Well, I’m sorry,” he smiled; “but you must n’t ask me such questions about my Thistledown, if you don’t want to hear me roar.”

A wee giggle delighted his ears.

“Now that’s something like it!” he said.  “Don’t let’s bother any more about that ring.  Probably we’ll find it to-morrow.  If we don’t, I’ll buy Elsie another.”

A faint, uncertain rapping made the physician set Polly gently on her feet, while he opened the door.  Nobody was in sight, and he kept on to the main entrance.

A man stood outside, who deferentially removed his hat.

“You b’long-a?” he asked.

“Yes, I belong here.  I am Dr. Dudley.  Whom do you wish to see?”