Pay to the order of Polly May Three Hundred Dollars. 
    Juliet P. Jocelyn.

“O-o-h!” and Polly’s face was beautiful in its joy; “does this mean that you’re going to give me three hundred dollars to buy some new cots with?”

“It means that the money is your own to use exactly as you please.”  The little lady was scarcely less excited than the child.  Giving was to her almost an untried pleasure.

“Oh, I can’t, I can’t, I can’t thank you enough!  It is so lovelicious!” Then Polly threw her arms around the happy donor in a way that would have made her cry out with actual pain if she had not been too delighted to realize it.

“I think that will cover the cost of six or seven cots, equipped for use,” said Mrs. Jocelyn,—­“that is, if you wish to spend the money for them.”  The gray eyes actually twinkled.

“Why, of course I do!” cried Polly.  “What else could I do with it?”

“You could n’t, you blessed child!  So we’ll have David downstairs just as soon as his bed is ready, won’t we?”

“Yes, and how glad he’ll be!  Oh, how glad he’ll be!  And Brida and Elsie—­they’ve been dreadfully afraid they’d have to go home before he came down; they want to see him so!  Won’t they be pleased!”

“I want to see David, too,” declared the little lady, “and he must come down with you as soon as his is strong enough—­unless I get well first,” she laughed.  “I feel almost well now.”

Polly beamed her delight, and presently was racing upstairs to tell her good news to everybody.

Dr. Dudley managed to get away before noon for the pleasant errand of purchasing the beds, and Polly was overflowing with bliss.  She had her choice in everything, with the Doctor and the merchant as advisers; and although the bill footed up to a little more than the check, the difference was struck off, and the cots and bedding promised to be at the hospital by two o’clock that afternoon.

The convalescent ward was in such an ecstasy of excitement that dinner went poorly; but finally it was cleared away, and the cots moved to make room for those were coming.  Everybody helped that could walk—­even those that had to hobble on crutches, for there were many little things to do, and only a short time to do them in.  Polly was Miss Lucy’s ready right hand, with always a flock of eager assistants.  When the beds were actually in place and the men had gone away, came the delightful task of spreading on the sheets and blankets and pretty coverlets.  All was in readiness before the hour specified, and then there was nothing to do but wait for the coming of the new patients.

At last there were footsteps on the stairs, uneven footsteps, as of one bearing a burden—­the children had started!  David was the last, and Polly had begun to be troubled, lest, after all, something might have delayed him until another day.  But there he was, smiling to her, and waving a thin little hand in greeting.  Polly wished that Mrs. Jocelyn could be there to see it all.  When David was finally in bed, with Polly by his side, he said:—­