“I s’pose it ain’t much compared to the elegance of your millionaire friends, Aunt Jane flung out, nettled at the child’s lack of approval.

“Mrs. Jocelyn’ furniture is very plain—­if you mean her,” replied Polly gently.

“Well, come in here and put your things,” leading the way to a little dim bedroom, lighted only from the apartment in front.  “Better take off that white dress, and keep it clean; I’ll get you one of Sophia’s to wear till I can send for your clothes.”

Slowly and sadly Polly laid aside her hat, and began to unbutton her dainty frock.  Tears welled up in her eyes, at thoughts of Miss Lucy; but with a mighty effort she winked them back.

“There!—­try that, and see how it fits.”

Aunt Jane had emerged from the depths of a dark closet, and now tossed a limp calico print towards Polly.

The child could discern soiled patches on front and sleeves, and she revolted against the unclean garment; but silently she put it on.

“Well, that ain’t so bad!” approved Aunt Jane.  “Sophia’s a whole year younger than you; but she takes a bigger waist.  Stand out there—­my, but it’s short!  Never mind!  Here’s a petticoat to go with it.”

Polly looked down in dismay.  She had thought she might perhaps steal away to the hospital, just to let the Doctor and Miss Lucy know where she was; but she could never brave the street in such a skirt.

“Now I’ll go to sewin’ buttons, and you can do up the dinner dishes.  I left ’em, thinkin’ you’d be here.  This is the way to the kitchen.”  And presently Polly found herself in a little stuffy box of a room, with a tableful of greasy dishes before her.

“Where are the children?” she ventured.

“At school, of course,—­where you ought to be.  Marcus and ‘Melie I left at Mis’ Cobbe’s.  That Marcus is a terror!  I shall be thankful when he goes to school.  Why did n’t they send you this fall?  You’ll be ’way back in your books.”

“Dr. Dudley has made arrangements for me to go to a school near the hospital; it does n’t begin till next week.”

“Oh, a private school!  My, if they ain’t puttin’ the airs on to you!”

“It’s near.  That’s why—­”

“Huh!  Well, ’t ain’t near here.  I guess you can git along with the one my kids go to.”

Polly did not reply.  Experience had taught her to be sparing of words with Aunt Jane.  She was still toiling with the heavy crockery, when a rush of feet in the hallway announced that school was out.

The door banged wide.

“Hoh!  You’ve got back, have you?”

“Hullo, Poll!”

“Say, what you wearin’ my dress for?”

“Oh, you’ve got on a gold locket!  Le’ me see it!” Katie’s fingers began pulling at the clasp.

“Oh, don’t, please!” cried Polly.  “I’ll unfasten it for you as soon as I get the dishes done.”

“I want to see it now!  Mamma, shan’t Polly take off her locket, and let me see it?”