“Now, tell me all about it, please!  It was such a splendid surprise!”

So Polly told just how it had happened, and talked and kept on talking, until she suddenly discovered that David was looking a little weary—­though he insisted that he was not tired.  But in her motherly way, that was the delight of the ward, she bade him shut his eyes and “go right to sleep,” giving his hand a final caressing pat, and then running away to let him have a chance to follow her injunction.

Chapter IX

A Night of Song

David had been nearly three whole days in the convalescent ward, taking big leaps on the road to health, when Polly was summoned to Dr. Dudley’s office.  Since her meeting with Aunt Jane, the sharp-voiced woman was ever close at hand, ready instantly to appear in the little girl’s thought and fill her with sickening fear.  Now Polly’s feet lagged as she went downstairs; she dreaded to look into the office.  But Dr. Dudley was there quite alone, smiling a blithe good-morning.

“Miss Price wishes you assistance in the care of a patient,” he began.

“Wh-y!” breathed Polly, “How funny—­for her to want me!”

“She is nursing Burton Leonard,” the physician explained, “a little six-year-old boy who was operated upon yesterday for appendicitis.  His life depends on his being quiet, but he will not keep still.  Miss Price thinks you can help out by telling him a story or two, something that will make him forget, if possible, how terribly thirsty he is.”

“Can’t he have anything to drink?” questioned Polly, with a sympathetic little frown.

“Only an occasional sip of warm water—­nothing cold.”

“I’ll do my best,” she promised.  “I shall love to help, if I can.”

Dr. Dudley took her hand, and down the corridor they went, the one with long strides, the other on dancing feet.

Master Burton stared at his visitor, his big black eyes looking bigger in a contrast with the white, drawn little face.

“What you come for?” he asked fretfully.

“To see you,” smiled Polly.

“I do’ want to be seen,” was the unexpected reply, and he pulled the sheet over his head.

Polly laughed, and waited.

Presently the black eyes again appeared.

“Why don’t you lie abed?” he whined.

“I did till I got well.”

“Did they make you lie still?” he questioned.

“Yes, I had to keep very still indeed.”

“I don’t,” he whispered, glancing towards the Doctor, who was just passing out.  “When they ain’t lookin’ I wriggle round!”

“You’d get well quicker if you’d do just as Miss Price and Dr. Dudley tell you,” advised Polly.

“Huh!  My mamma says nobody on earth can make me mind!” He beckoned her nearer.  “Say,” he chuckled, “she put an ice bag on me,” with a wink towards the nurse, “and I got out some o’ the ice! It’s awful good!  She would n’t give me a drop o’ water, only horrid old warm stuff.”  He showed his tongue, with a bit of ice upon it.