“I got a kitty, too!” she confided.  “Her name’s Popover, ’cause when the kitties was all little, an’ runnin’ round, an’ playin’, she’d pop right over on her back, jus’ as funny!  She’s all black concept[sic] a little spot o’ white—­oh, me kitty is the prettiest kitty in town!”

“How shall I ever get along without her!” sighed the young nurse, as she watched Polly flitting about like a sprite, comforting restless little patients, hushing, with her ready tact, quarrelsome tongues, and winning every heart by her gentle, loving ways.  Oh, the ward would be lonely indeed without Polly May!  None realized this more than Miss Lucy, unless it were Dr. Dudley, the cherry house physician, whom all the children adored.

As the day set for Polly’s going came near and nearer, the mourning of the small convalescents increased, until the ward would have been in danger of continual tears if it had not been for Polly herself.  She was gayer than ever, telling the funniest stories and singing the merriest songs, and making her little friends half forget that the good times were not going to last.  The children never guessed that this was almost as much to help herself over the hard place as to cheer them.  In fact, they believed that her unusual high spirits came of her being glad to leave the hospital.  Even Miss Lucy could n’t quite understand it all.  But Dr. Dudley knew; he had seen her face when she had been told that she was soon to go.

It was not strange that Polly should dread parting from the people with whom she had been so happy, for no mother or father or pleasant home was waiting for her,—­only Aunt Jane, in the cramped, dingy little tenement,—­Aunt Jane and her six unruly girls and boys.  Poly did not permit herself to think much about going away, however, and the last evening found her cheerful still.  Then Elsie Meyer began her doleful suggestions.

“I wonder how often your Aunt Jane ’ll let you come and see us.  P’r’aps she won’t let you come at all—­oh, my!  If she don’t, maybe we’ll never see you again!”

“Nonsense, Elsie!  Don’t go to conjuring up any such thing!” broke in Miss Lucy’s laughing voice.  “Of course—­why, Polly!” For the little girl had been brought suddenly face to face with an awful possibility, and her courage had given way.  She was sobbing on the foot of Elsie’s bed.

A low rap on the half-open door sent Miss Lucy thither, and Polly heard Dr. Dudley speak her name.  A new terror took instant possession of her heart.  The Doctor had come to take her home!  She did not stop to reason.  Dropping to the floor, she crept softly under the cot, from there to the next and the next.  Her course was straight to the door through which the physician had entered, and by the time he was halfway across the room she had wriggled herself clear of the last cot, and was over the sill and in the corridor, the twilight aiding her escape.  Regaining her feet, she darted noiselessly down the long hall.  At the head of the stairs she paused.  On the floor below was a small alcove where she might hide.  Making sure that no one was in sight, she sped down, but as she reached the lower step one of the nurses opened the door opposite.