"Never mind!" returned Polly. "We can give 'em a drink once in a while."
So it was agreed. Meantime Miss Lucy, at her table, textbook in hand, overheard and wished and planned. Downstairs, too, where Mrs. Jocelyn sat talking with Dr. Dudley, more planning was going on, and in the physician's own heart a little private scheme was brewing. Thus the ward's birthday came nearer and more near.
The sweet peas were placed on a broad sill outside the window for the night, lest they might take it into their frail little heads to wither before their time. They showed their appreciation of Miss Lucy's thoughtfulness by being as sweet and bright as possible, and early in the morning everybody in the ward wore a decoration.
About ten o'clock Dr. Dudley appeared, and Polly and Elsie hurried to pin a posy in his buttonhole. Elsie had chosen a pink and Polly a blue blossom, and one little girl held them in place while the other pinned them fast, the Doctor sending telegraphic messages over their heads to Miss Lucy.
"Now, let me see," he began, after he had returned thanks for his sweets; "think I can squeeze in seven or eight of them?" nodding to the nurse.
"They're none of them very bulky," she laughed.
"Fell strong enough for an auto ride, Elsie?" he twinkled.
"Me?" gasped the little girl. "You don't mean me, do you?"
"If your name is Elsie Meyer, you're the one," he replied.
"Oh, my! O-h, m-y!" she cried. "Polly! Polly! He's goin' to take me to ride!" And she whirled Polly round and round in her excited joy.