Doodles chuckled.
“It isn’t the first time she has sent us a patient,” the young woman went on. “Polly is her father’s right-hand man.”
“I think she is lovely,” returned Doodles.
“She is,” was the emphatic assent.
At the moment another nurse brought a small tray and a cup of broth. She swung the top of a table directly over the bed, and set the tray upon it, to the delight of the little patient who had never seen a table of that sort.
The broth was hot and good, and Doodles sat, propped up with pillows, and sipped and sipped until it was every drop gone. Then, as he was alone, he fell to admiring the cup. It was of delicate white china, with a handle on each side, and a wreath of pansies around it. He wondered if the pansies made the broth taste better.
From the cup his eyes roved round the room. How dainty it was! And light! So different from the dim bedroom at home! The one large window at the end was hung with three curtains,—a very dark shade, a light shade, and drapery of white muslin looped at either side. Through the clear glass he could see a wide sweep of blue sky, and a few trees in their autumn dress. How beautiful it was! He was still gazing, when he heard a soft “Hullo!” He turned quickly, to see Polly Dudley in the doorway.
“How do you do?” she smiled. “I am so glad you have come! I should have been dreadfully disappointed if you hadn’t!”
“You would?” returned Doodles in surprised tone.
“Of course,” laughed Polly. “Because I want you to walk and run as I can.”