“I should think it was already here,” returned Miss Lucy.  “Had n’t you better wait till it passes, before taking Polly out?”

“Oh, no!  Wrap her up well, and I’ll carry her.  It is only a few stops; she won’t get wet.”

Polly was a quaint little figure in the long mackintosh, and it tripped her feet once or twice, until the doctor drew it from her and threw it across his arm.

The thunder had been lighter for some minutes; but as they halted at the entrance before going out a tremendous crash jarred the building.

“Not afraid, Thistledown?” smiled Dr. Dudley, as he wrapped her again in the long cloak.

“I don’t like it,” she confessed; “but I shan’t mind with you,” putting her arms around his neck.

The rain was pouring as they left the piazza, and before they were off the grounds big stones of hail were pelting their umbrella.  The Doctor hurried along, the lightning glaring about them and the air filled with thunder.

Colonel Gresham’s house was nearly reached, when a sudden gust turned the umbrella, and almost at once came a blaze of light and a terrific crash—­a great oak across the street had been split from top to root!

With a gasp of terror Polly clung to the Doctor’s neck, and he sped up the walk on a quick run.

“There!” he exclaimed, setting her down inside the door, “You’re safe and sound!  But next time we’ll take Miss Lucy’s advice, and not run any such risks.”

“It was awful, was n’t it?” breathed Polly.

“A little too close for comfort,” he smiled, taking her wet coat and spreading it over a chair.

At the foot of the stairs he halted for a few instructions.

“Humor the Colonel in every way possible,” he told Polly.  “If he names you ’Eva,” let him think he is right, and call him ’Uncle David.’”

“I’m afraid I shall make a mistake,” replied Polly.

“You won’t,” he assured her.  “Just imagine you are his little niece, doing everything to please him—­that is all.”

Miss Batterson smiled down on Polly, as she entered the sick-room, and spoke in a low voice to the physician.

Colonel Gresham had been muttering indistinctly, and now broke into his persistent call:—­

“Eva!  Eva!  Where’s Eva?”

Dr. Dudley gave Polly a gentle push towards the bed.

“Here I am, Uncle David!” she answered, standing where the light slanted across her yellow curls.

The sick man started up, and then dropped back on his pillow.

“Oh, you’ve come!” he cried, with a breath of relief, “Why did you stay away—­so—­long?”

“I did n’t know you wanted me till now, Uncle David,” replied the soft voice.

“Come nearer, child!  Let me feel you little hand!  I dreamed—­I dreamed—­you were gone—­forever!”

“He lay quiet for a moment, her cool fingers in his hot, trembling palm.  Then he startled her bu the sudden cry:—­