Polly pacified him, as before, and once more he drowsed.
The little girl slept, to, in the Doctor's arms, until, towards morning the Colonel was resting so calmly that they returned to the hospital.
Miss Lucy clasped Polly with almost a sob.
"If you ever go away again in such a storm," she declared, "I shall go, too! I saw the lightning come down—and—" her voice broke.
"And we were not harmed in the least," finished the Doctor cheerily. "But next time I promise to act upon your higher wisdom, and not venture among such thunderbolts. Now, hustle into bed, both of you, and don't dare to wake up till breakfast time!"
The convalescent ward slept late; the nurse and Polly strictly obeyed orders. Nobody cared, however, and unusual gayety prevailed at the tardy breakfast, to match the bright September morning and the good news of Colonel Gresham. For word had come up from Dr. Dudley that the Colonel was going to get well.
Of course the children eagerly heard the story of Polly's midnight trip in the physician's arms through the fearful storm. It had to be told over and over again, and the more daring ones wished they had been awake to see it all.
The details of what had taken place in the sick-room Polly wisely withheld; but the girls and boys were undoubtedly more interested in the account of the lightning's striking the familiar big oak tree than they would have been in the more important part of that night's strange story.
It was not many weeks afterward that Dr. Dudley brought Polly a message.
"The Colonel says he feels slighted because you don't come to see him, and I promised to send you over."