"Cornelius and Moses," he counted, "and Elsie and Polly,"— his eyes had reached the little girl with a crutch, whose pale face was growing pink and paler by turns,—"and Leonora and Brida," he went on; "that makes six."
"Oh, me too?" squealed Brida delightedly, clutching her chair for support in the trying moment.
Leonora said nothing, only gazed at the Doctor as if she feared he would vanish, together with her promised ride, if she did not keep close watch.
"There are only two more for whom I dare risk the bumpety-bumps," laughed Dr. Dudley. "Corinne, I think you can bear them, and perhaps we can wedge in Isabel."
"Oh, we can hold her!" volunteered Elsie.
"Sure, we can!" echoed Cornelius.
"No, I want to thit in Polly'th lap," lisped the midget, edging away from the others, and doing her best to climb to Polly's arms.
Polly clasped the tiny one tight, smiling her promise, to full of joy in her friends' happiness for any words.
"I'll give you fifteen minutes to prink up in," the Doctor told them; and away they scampered, Polly halting by David's cot long enough to wish he "were going too."
The eight were downstairs within the specified time, and they whirled off in the big motor car, which seated them all comfortably without crowding anybody. Very demure they were, passing along the city streets, but in the open country their delight found vent in shouts and squeals and jubilant laughter. Dr. Dudley chose a route apart from the traveled highways, leading through woods and between blossoming fields.