“You think your father can cure everybody,” laughed Lilith.
“Well, he can—almost everybody!” maintained Polly. “I wish they’d let father see him.”
“I guess they’ve tried a lot of doctors. Mrs. Gaylord told mamma that a famous New York surgeon has just said he won’t ever be any better—isn’t it awful?”
“I wish father could see him!” Polly insisted longingly.
“Do you think your father knows more than that big New York doctor?” asked Lilith with a rallying laugh.
“Of course, he does! He has cured lots of children that those great surgeons said couldn’t ever be!”
“You can ask your father to come and see him,” suggested Lilith.
“Oh, no, he never would!” Polly shook her head decidedly. “Unless they asked him to,” she amended. “Say,” she broke out hurriedly, “isn’t that Mr. Gaylord?”
“Yes.”
“I’m going to see him!” Polly rushed into the hall as the car stopped and a gray-coated man came up the steps.