"OH, I shall have to go!" cried Polly. "I'll run right off and change my dress."
Colonel Gresham was in a great chair by the window, and begged his small guest pardon for not rising to greet her.
"I'm not quite firm on my legs yet," he laughed, "and I must n't topple over, as Miss Batterson has left me for a whole hour."
"Oh, then I'll stay and wait on you!" beamed Polly. "And if you get tired hearing me talk, you can go to sleep."
But the Colonel seemed very wide awake, and after a gay chat he began:—
"Dr. Dudley has been telling me about bringing you over here in that thunderstorm, and how you quieted me when nobody else could."
"Yes," replied Polly innocently, "You thought I was your little niece, Eva, and—"
"What?" broke in her listener, amazement in his tone.
"Oh, I s'posed he 'd told you!" cried Polly, in dismay. "I ought not to have—"
"Yes, you ought!" he interrupted. "What did I say?"