“Safer, we hope,” Douglas added, with a smile.
“Are you two bug?” Polly questioned, as she turned her head from one side to the other and studied them with a new idea. “Well, you can't get none the best of me. I can get away all right, and I will, too.”
She made a desperate effort to put one foot to the floor, but fell back with a cry of pain.
“Dar, dar,” Mandy murmured, putting the pillow under the poor, cramped neck, and smoothing the tangled hair from Polly's forehead. “Yuh done hurt yo'sef for suah dis time.”
The pastor had taken a step toward the bed. His look of amusement had changed to one of pity.
“You see, Miss Polly, you have had a very bad fall, and you can't get away just yet, nor see your friends until you are better.”
“It's only a scratch,” Polly whimpered. “I can do my work; I got to.” One more feeble effort and she succumbed, with a faint “Jimminy Crickets!”
“Uncle Toby told me that you were a very good little girl,” Douglas said, as he drew up a chair and sat down by her side, confident by the expression on her face that at last he was master of the situation. “Do you think he would like you to behave like this?”
“I sure am on the blink,” she sighed, as she settled back wearily upon the pillow.
“You'll be all right soon,” Douglas answered, cheerily. “Mandy and I will help the time to go.”