“Yes, poor little children,” Miss Ruth repeated. “The happy part of it all is, though, that the children are growing stronger. But just think how they have to go without the playing and running about you all can have. Once a little girl, seven years old, whom I saw out here, and who couldn’t walk, said: ‘I used to play when I was young.’”
“There’s the house now,” exclaimed Alice, as they came within sight of a large red-brick building with many red chimneys, situated quite far back from the highway.
Just where the road turned toward the comfortable-looking red house stood a tall, wooden sign with the words:
CONVALESCENT HOME
OF THE CHILDREN’S HOSPITAL
VISITORS ALWAYS WELCOME
“Doesn’t that sound pleasant?” said Betty, reading it aloud. “It makes you feel as though they really want you to come.”
Miss Ruth had been here many times before, so she sent a message to the head-nurse by the maid who opened the front door: “Tell Miss Hartwell that we would like to see her when she is at liberty, and that I have taken my young friends out to the playroom. How many children have you here this week?”
“About seventy-five, Miss Warren,” replied the maid, conducting the little party through the large, airy hall with its light yellow-green walls and dark wood finish, and along a wide passageway to the playroom.
The three girls went on in silence, except that Elsa said to Miss Ruth: “What a lovely, clean place it is!”
Soon they found themselves in a large room—which seemed almost like outdoors, it was so light and pleasant—and in the midst of a great many children, most of whom were upon one crutch or two crutches, or had bandages upon their feet, arms, or even their whole bodies.
“There are over forty children here in the playroom,” said the white-capped nurse who had stepped forward to answer Miss Ruth’s greeting. “The stronger children have been out-of-doors in the fresh air;—but see, they are coming in now,” she added. “Miss Hartwell has them come in half an hour before their supper time.”