“Now, Polly,” said Theresa quietly, “you mustn’t give way. You must have grit and content yourself for to-night. And to-morrow morning I’ll get you off by the first train. There won’t be the slightest trouble about it. I’ll pack your things in a nice bundle and you can carry it with you.”
“But—but——” broke out Polly in despair, “Mrs. Duer told me not to go outside the gates—and I promised.”
“Unless I went with you,” corrected Theresa. “She told me all about it and she made you give your word that you’d mind what I said and do everything I told you to do.”
“But—but——” cried Polly, still only half-convinced, “I don’t know the way. I haven’t any money.”
“Oh, pshaw!” exclaimed the maid. “That’s nothing. I’ll be glad to give you your carfare and you haven’t to change cars once all the way. All you have to do when you’re in the train is to sit still until you get to the city. Then you walk through the station and up Madison Avenue for a while and there you are, right at the hospital door. You can’t possibly lose your way. It’s as plain as a pipe-stem. And I’ll wake you early to-morrow morning, before the rest are up, and you can get away on that first train.”
Polly’s head was whirling. She passively let Theresa lead her up-stairs and, in a sort of dream, saw her make ready a neat bundle containing the very best of the dainty garments Miss Cissy and Mrs. Duer had given her. She could not touch her supper, though Theresa had taken unusual pains to make it an especially tempting one and kindly urged her, in the friendliest manner possible, to eat. And later, although it grew long past her bedtime, her tearless eyes refused to close. She lay awake staring into the darkness, hearing the big clock tick and the miserable little screech-owl moan and thought of sister and what she would do if—— But here she always had to stop and go back again to the beginning, for she could not get her thoughts to carry her beyond the point of sister’s leaving her in the world alone.
She must have fallen into a doze at last, for it was with a start of surprise that she heard Theresa’s voice whispering in her ear: “Wake up, Polly! Hurry! It’s time you were up and dressing! I’ve got a glass of milk for you and some biscuits, and if you’re quick you won’t have any trouble getting to the station in time for the train,” and knew that it was morning and that she was back in the world again with that awful gloom of sister’s being worse hanging over her and shutting out the sunshine.
Theresa was kindness itself. She helped Polly to dress, encouraged her to eat her breakfast and quite laughed with good-natured generosity at Polly’s reluctance to accept the money for her journey.
“You see, Theresa, I could have paid for it myself,” the little girl explained, “but I took the money out of my bank to give to Miss Cissy when I lost the bag the night of the Fair.”
“Oh, you did, did you?” said Theresa. “Did Miss Cissy know?”