"Yes," said Dot; "there is a boy there with only one arm. Do you suppose they'll grow a new one on him?"
That time Miss Pepperill did laugh in good earnest; but Tess despaired. "Goodness, Dot! they don't grow arms on folks."
"Why not?" demanded the inquisitive Dorothy. "Our teacher was reading to us how new claws grow on lobsters when they lose 'em fighting. But perhaps that boy wasn't fighting when he lost his arm."
"For pity's sake! I should hope not," observed Miss Pepperill. In a minute they came in sight of the hospital, and she added, in her very tartest tone of voice: "I shall go in with you, Theresa. I should like to meet your Mrs. Eland."
"Yes, ma'am," Tess replied dutifully, but Dot whispered:
"I don't like the way she says 'Theresa' to you, Tess. It—it sounds just as though you were going to have a tooth pulled."
Miss Pepperill had stalked ahead with Dot's bunch of flowers. Dot did not much mind having the flowers carried for her; but she did not propose letting anybody at the hospital make a mistake as to who donated that particular bouquet. As they went in she said to the porter, who was quite well acquainted with the two smallest Corner House girls by this time:
"Good morning, Mr. John. We are bringing some flowers for the children's ward, Tess and me. That lady with—with the light hair, is carrying mine."
Fortunately the red-haired school teacher did not hear this observation on the part of Dot.
Half-way down the corridor, Mrs. Eland chanced to come out of one of the offices to meet the school teacher, face to face. "Oh! I beg your pardon," said the little, gray lady—for she dressed in that hue in the house as well as on the street. "Did you wish to see me?"