"Is Mary right?" Miss Lucy smiled.
Polly hesitated, growing grave. Then her eyes danced mischievously. "Just about right," she answered softly. "It was 'good' and 'awful' both. But I had a lovely time with Dr. Dudley after I came home—lovely!"
Miss Lucy sent a quick searching glance into the happy eyes, and they fell before it. Polly feared she had told too much. But no, she reasoned, because the secret was also Miss Lucy's. She looked up again half shyly. The nurse's cheeks were very pink, and her lips were smiling.
"Precious child!" she murmured; and then she kissed her, a bit of favoritism which she seldom allowed herself. But there was now an excuse. Polly had been away.
Shortly afterwards Miss Hortensia Price and the Doctor appeared, laden with happiness for the ward. The dignified nurse seemed in a holiday mood, to match her ribboned armful, and she remained to see the delight of the children, as they unwrapped their presents.
Leonora lingered over the untying of her box, as if reluctant to risk the pretty flowered bit of pasteboard for what lay within. Polly went across to where she sat.
"I'm waiting to know how you like it," she smiled.
Leonora finally lifted the cover, and her long-drawn, "O-h!" of surprise and joy was enough for the donor.
"It is just like mine," Polly explained, "only mine is forget-me-nots on pale blue."
"That must be lovely," said Leonora; "but I like this best for me—it don't seem as if it could be for me!"