Chapter IX
A Night of Song
David had been nearly three whole days in the convalescent ward, taking big leaps on the road to health, when Polly was summoned to Dr. Dudley's office. Since her meeting with Aunt Jane, the sharp-voiced woman was ever close at hand, ready instantly to appear in the little girl's thought and fill her with sickening fear. Now Polly's feet lagged as she went downstairs; she dreaded to look into the office. But Dr. Dudley was there quite alone, smiling a blithe good-morning.
"Miss Price wishes you assistance in the care of a patient," he began.
"Wh-y!" breathed Polly, "How funny—for her to want me!"
"She is nursing Burton Leonard," the physician explained, "a little six-year-old boy who was operated upon yesterday for appendicitis. His life depends on his being quiet, but he will not keep still. Miss Price thinks you can help out by telling him a story or two, something that will make him forget, if possible, how terribly thirsty he is."
"Can't he have anything to drink?" questioned Polly, with a sympathetic little frown.
"Only an occasional sip of warm water—nothing cold."
"I'll do my best," she promised. "I shall love to help, if I can."
Dr. Dudley took her hand, and down the corridor they went, the one with long strides, the other on dancing feet.
Master Burton stared at his visitor, his big black eyes looking bigger in a contrast with the white, drawn little face.