“Yes, this is the one.” Mrs. Dudley drew the cork hesitatingly.
“I thought I could do without it,” she sighed, “but the pain is growing worse—I must have something.”
She bade Polly crush one of the tablets, and two small pills from another bottle, making a powder of the three.
“Your father would have given me this before now if he had been here,” she smiled.
“Why don’t you want to take it?” queried Polly.
“I always put off anodynes as long as possible. But I will not take a large dose.”
“Will it hurt you?” Polly’s face was anxious.
“Oh, no! it will stop the pain. But how is it that you are home from school so early? It is not three o’clock, is it?”
“It is after four. But I didn’t go this afternoon. I wouldn’t leave you all alone; besides, it is snowing hard.”
“Oh, is it snowing! Well, I’m glad you stayed at home. Poor little girl! you are having a dreary time.” She clasped Polly’s hand with gentle pressure.