“Burt Sehl is the boy’s name, and Cornelius and I walked along with him till we got off the street—­Cornel’ was sharp enough not to tackle him near the school.  As soon as the crowd thinned out, he asked him if he had that locket, and at first Burt put up a bluff.  Finally he admitted that he got it from Greg.  Simpson; said he swapped a lot of tops and marbles for it.”

“I should n’t suppose he’d have given it up,” cried Polly excitedly.

David laughed.  “He did n’t without a tussle; but Cornelius was more than a match for him—­my!  Don’t I wish I were as strong as he!”

“You will be some day,” encouraged Polly.  “But I’m glad I chose that book for Cornelius—­it’s all about a knight!”

“What book?” queried David.

“Oh, the book I left at his home for him this afternoon!  I forgot,” and she caught up the long parcel for David.  “I hope you’ll like that,” she said.

The boy’s eyes glistened when he saw what it was.

“Oh, you don’t know how many times I’ve wished I had a flute!” he cried, fingering the little instrument delightedly.

“What’s going on here?” called Dr. Dudley, from the open door.

“These are going in here!” flashed Polly, deftly transferring a square, thin package from the couch to the Doctor’s pocket.

It caught and held by one corner, but the physician did not leave it long.  He looked at it critically, and then laid it on the table, and began untying the bright ribbon which bound it.

“You have seen the hole in my Sunday handkerchief!” exclaimed the Doctor, dramatically, his eyes a-twinkle as he opened the box.

Polly and David laughed.

The handkerchiefs were fine and dainty enough to suit the most fastidious gentleman, and Dr. Dudley expressed sincere admiration for the gift.

Then the story of the locket had to be told again, and at its end David discovered that it was time for him to be at his new home.

Polly began to look over the packages, picking out what she wished to carry upstairs at once.

“Are n’t you going to tell me about your visit?” asked the Doctor, dropping into his easiest chair with a luxurious sigh of relief, after a hard day.

The little girl’s face grew suddenly grave.  In the pleasure of the last hour she had forgotten the trouble that had been looming ahead of her ever since Mrs. Jocelyn’s proposition.  She laid Mabel’s doll back on the pile, and came slowly over to the Doctor.

Chapter XVI

A Secret

“You went shopping, I observe,” began Dr. Dudley, tentatively.

“Yes,” responded Polly, balancing herself on the arm of his chair.  “Mrs. Jocelyn bought lots of things for me to give to people.  We bade out a list—­or she did.  She let me choose.”

“That was kind.”

“Yes,” Polly assented, and then studied the rug for a moment.