"Oh, it will be such fun!" chuckled Polly. "And you sure so good to do it!"
"Pshaw!" exclaimed the little lady. "I'm only being good to myself. I have just begun to learn what money is for, and I am enjoying it—for the first time in years!" A shadow stole over the wrinkled pink-and-white face; but a smile quickly chased it away. "Now, my love, whose name shall head your list of especial friends?"
"I don't know," Polly hesitated. "Do you mean children?"
"I mean anybody that you would like to honor with a gift. Suppose you begin with Miss Price—Miss Lucy Price."
"Oh, I'd love to! But what could I get?"
"Plenty of things to choose from,—books and jewelry and all sorts of knick-knacks, besides pretty bits to wear."
"I think she'd like a new hand bag," ventured Polly. "Hers is so gray and shabby. Would it cost too much?"
"No, indeed!" laughed Mrs. Jocelyn. "You shall buy the very prettiest one we can find. But before I forget it I must see about something else. I want your picture, and I know your hospital friends would like it, too. Wait a minute, and I'll call up Fisher, and secure an appointment for this afternoon if possible."
She disappeared in the tiny room back of the staircase, set apart for the telephone, and Polly heard her voice, as she talked over the wire. "I have promised to have you there at three o'clock," she announced presently. "That will give us a good two hours for shopping, if we don't talk too long over our luncheon."
"Am I dressed all right?" queried Polly, anxiously; adding, "Who will want my picture? The folks at the hospital see me all the time."