There was look of expectancy on the midget's face. A word of joy broke from her lips.
Polly laid the beautiful doll in her arms, smiling to see the rapture in the big blue eyes.
Then a wee shadow crept over. "Mine? All mine?" questioned the tiny one.
"Yes, all yours," was the sure answer. "Is n't it a darling?"
Trotty did not speak, but hugged the new baby to her heart in a way that left no doubt. Polly wished that Mrs. Jocelyn were there to see.
After the other smaller packages had been left with the several patients for whom they were marked, Polly said, in a voice that carried to all the cots:—
"This is n't all. There is something for everybody; but I could n't bring so many. Dr. Dudley and miss Price are coming up with the rest."
They started a babel of joyous questioning; but Polly was responsive and patient, and altogether so satisfactory, that the little sick people settled back on their pillows in supreme content, to await the coming of their presents.
The others had heard, too, and pressed about Polly with eager talk.
"I chose a doll for every girl that has n't any," she told them gaily, "and I got just as pretty ones as there were in the store."