Chapter 15

A Bid For Polly

Early on Monday morning Polly received an urgent request from Mrs. Jocelyn that she begin her delayed visit that very hour. So, as school was to open on Wednesday, it was decided that the little girl should accept the renewed invitation, and that Dr. Dudley should fetch her home on the succeeding afternoon.

"By that time," observed David, "we shall be all moved, and we can go to school together in the morning."

"But, oh, dear!" groaned Leonora, "that Aunt Jane will get you again, sure! Oh, Dr. Dudley, don't let her go alone, please don't!"

Polly laughed happily. It was hard for Leonora to realize that Mrs. Bean had no more power over her beloved friend.

But Dr. Dudley did not laugh. Leonora had been of the band of anxious ones on that night of suspense, and he could understand how she still feared to have Polly venture for without a protector.

"You need not worry," he assured her. "I shall not let Polly out of my sight until she is safely inside Mrs. Jocelyn's house."

"I could go alone just as well," smiled the little girl. "There is n't any danger."

"It is too long a walk," returned the Doctor, "and don't you dare to come back, young lady, until you come with me!" He shook his finger at her threateningly.

She giggled, while David remarked, with a mischievous twinkle:--

"That would be a good way to keep her there--you need n't go after her!"

"Do you want me to stay away, David Collins?" demanded Polly.

"No, I don't," he admitted laughing.

"Oh, don't talk about her staying away!" pleaded Leonora. "We did, just in fun, last time, and then she was lost!"

"Oh, you funny, blessed Leonora!" cried Polly, putting her arms around her friend's neck, "I'm not going to get lost, or stay away, either--only one night. I guess you can stand it for just one night."

Dr. Dudley saw his charge inside Mrs. Jocelyn's door, according to his promise; but the little lady told him that he need not come after her, for she would bring her back on the following day.

Mrs. Jocelyn's home was in a delightful quarter of the city, opposite a park of many acres. The house was dignified mansion, full of stately old furniture, and if it had not been for its owner's cheery hospitality it would have been rather awe-inspiring to a little girl like Polly. But Polly, having been several times a guest in the big house, now felt quite at home, and ran up and down the polished oaken stairs and through the grand, dimly lighted hallways as merrily as if she had always been used to such imposing surroundings.

"It is too bad Dorothy could n't stay over till this week," Mrs. Jocelyn said; "but never mind! She'll come again before long, and then you'll see her. We'll have such pleasant times to-day and to-morrow, that she won't be missed. This afternoon are going shopping, and you are to buy presents for everybody you like."

"Oh!" beamed Polly.

"And to-morrow morning," her hostess went on, "we are invited to a musicale across the street, at Mrs. Trowbridge's, where we shall the wonderful little violinist who is being made so much of by musicians."

"Won't that be lovely!" cried Polly. "I have n't heard any music in ever so long, except at church, and David's singing."

Mrs. Jocelyn smiled appreciatively. "I knew you would enjoy it," she said. "Now I shall be busy for a few minutes, and you can do anything you choose,--mouse around the library, or play on the piano, or make out a list of what you'd like to give your friends. We will start soon after luncheon. You won't have time for much; I'm only going to make a salad dressing which I fancy I can mix a little better than Tilly can. Then I'll help you with the presents."

Polly had taken lessons of her mother, and her fingers still remembered bits of the pieces she had learned; so the piano was her first choice. Lured on by the familiar airs, she played and played, forgetting all but the music she loved.

Mrs. Jocelyn returned from the kitchen, and, unnoticed, slipped into a seat back of the player.

Finally Polly turned around.

"I felt you there!" she laughed. "Have I hindered you?"

"You have been charming me. Why, child, I did n't know you could play so well! And all out of practice, too! I should n't think you could recollect a note."

"My fingers seem to," Polly smiled. "I'll think I don't know a piece, and then my hands go right along and play it."

"I wish mine would," laughed Mrs. Jocelyn. "But I've let my music go too long; it will never come back." Her last tones were a little sad, but she quickly recovered her gayety. "Suppose we think over now," she proposed, "what you would like to purchase at the stores, and where we shall need to go. Then we can the better map out our afternoon."

Polly was all eagerness at once, and her hostess was no less interested.

"Are n't there some new girls in the ward who have n't any dolls?"

"Yes," Polly answered, "there are five or six. Let me see," tapping off the names on her fingers, "there's Mabel, and Stella, and Frederica, and Angiola, and Trotty,--she's only four,-- and Mary Pender, and Ida Regan,--she's real pretty; that makes seven: I think that's all."

"You shall choose a doll for each one of them. You will know better than I just what will suit."

"Oh, it will be such fun!" chuckled Polly. "And you sure so good to do it!"

"Pshaw!" exclaimed the little lady. "I'm only being good to myself. I have just begun to learn what money is for, and I am enjoying it--for the first time in years!" A shadow stole over the wrinkled pink-and-white face; but a smile quickly chased it away. "Now, my love, whose name shall head your list of especial friends?"

"I don't know," Polly hesitated. "Do you mean children?"

"I mean anybody that you would like to honor with a gift. Suppose you begin with Miss Price--Miss Lucy Price."

"Oh, I'd love to! But what could I get?"

"Plenty of things to choose from,--books and jewelry and all sorts of knick-knacks, besides pretty bits to wear."

"I think she'd like a new hand bag," ventured Polly. "Hers is so gray and shabby. Would it cost too much?"

"No, indeed!" laughed Mrs. Jocelyn. "You shall buy the very prettiest one we can find. But before I forget it I must see about something else. I want your picture, and I know your hospital friends would like it, too. Wait a minute, and I'll call up Fisher, and secure an appointment for this afternoon if possible."

She disappeared in the tiny room back of the staircase, set apart for the telephone, and Polly heard her voice, as she talked over the wire. "I have promised to have you there at three o'clock," she announced presently. "That will give us a good two hours for shopping, if we don't talk too long over our luncheon."

"Am I dressed all right?" queried Polly, anxiously; adding, "Who will want my picture? The folks at the hospital see me all the time."

"Oh, you precious bit of humanity!" cried the little lady, taking Polly in her arms. "If I should tell you that you will make so sweet a picture that everybody will want it, would you believe it?"

"No," Polly laughed, "because it would n't be true."

Mrs. Jocelyn kissed her for answer, and then asked what she would like to give to David.

"He has a knife," mused Polly, scowling her forehead over the problem.

"How would a sterling silver fruit knife do?" suggested the little lady.

That was decided to be just the thing, and went down on the list. For Dr. Dudley, in addition to the photograph, Polly thought a nice handkerchief would be suitable gift, and Mrs. Jocelyn wrote, "Box of H." opposite his name.

"Could I give Leonora Hewitt something to wear?" ventured Polly. "She thinks so much of pretty things; but she can't have many, because her father is poor, and there are a lot of children besides her. Leonora is a sweet girl--and, oh, is n't it lovely? Dr. Dudley says now that she will get over her lameness, and be able to walk as well as anybody!"

"That is delightful!" agreed Mrs. Jocelyn. "You shall surely get a beautiful something for Leonora."

"Don't you think a pink hair ribbon would be nice?" Polly asked.

Her hostess smiled over the modesty of the gift, and was about to suggest some article of jewelry; but she finally let it go as Polly had chose, only adding on the paper, "and sash."

"We may change every one of these, when we come to the real selection," laughed the little lady; "but the list will be a guide."

Nobody was forgotten, not even Miss Hortensia Price, an "Illustrated Browning" being against her name.

They were on their way shortly after one o'clock, in Mrs. Jocelyn's stately coach, drawn by the handsome iron-grays that were Polly's admiration. It would be hard to say which enjoyed the shopping most, Polly in her innocent delight of giving, or the old little lady who was fast growing young in her now-found life. With a carriage full of bundles, they drove up to the photographer's precisely at the hour appointed, and Polly, radiant from her joyful experience, made a picture that charmed the artist as well as his patron.

The next morning's musicale was quite the feast that Polly had anticipated, and Mrs. Jocelyn's was a twofold enjoyment. The little girl had feared that her white dress was too wrinkled for grand a party; so her hostess's maid had smoothed it into its original perfection, and, to make good the hair ribbon that had been lost, Mrs. Jocelyn had bought an even prettier one--the palest blue sprinkled with forget-me-nots, and sash too match.

After luncheon came the delightful task of giving the presents pretty holiday touches with fancy tissue papers and gay ribbons.

"We're having the best part of it, are n't we?" chuckled Polly, tilting her head to one side as she tied a pink baby ribbon around Leonora's dainty box.

The little lady did not instantly answer; then, dropping her work, she caught the surprised child in her arms with almost a sob.

"O Polly, Polly!" she cried passionately, "I must have you! I must! I must! You have taught me how to live, and you belong to me! O Polly! Will you come?" She held her off, gazing pleadingly into her face.

"What--do you mean?" faltered the little girl.

"My darling! Did I frighten you? I mean I want you for my own dear daughter! I have n't said anything before, because I feared the woman you have supposed was your aunt would not give you up. But now that you are free I feel that I must have you? I meant to speak to Dr. Dudley first; but I could n't wait, dearest! Don't you want to come and live with me? I know it's a gloomy old house, but I will make it all over into the sunshiniest home you ever saw. You shall have everything you wish! I will buy you the very prettiest pair of Shetland ponies I can find, and the loveliest little carriage! You can take your friends driving every day!"

"That would be beautiful," responded Polly, with a faint smile.

"And you shall have the nicest doll house you ever heard of, and a whole set of furniture for your biggest doll! I'll fit you up two of the prettiest rooms in the house, and furnish them in white and blue! You shall have a new piano and take lessons of the very best master, and next summer we will go abroad and see all the wonders of Europe! Oh, there's no end to the happy things we'll do, if you will come and be my little girl! You will; won't you, Polly?"

"Why, I--don't know!" gasped the child. "You take my breath away!" She looked actually distressed.

"Poor darling!" The little lady folded Polly in her arms. "Of course you can't make up your mind all in a minute! I've thought of it so long, I did n't realize that it was news to you. I'm such an impatient body! Talk it over with Dr. Dudley, and he will make things all clear. Now we'll forget it, and finish up these packages. What do yo suppose Leonora will say to her new ribbons?"

The voice was gay, so sure was the little lady that Polly, counseled by the far-seeing doctor, would make quick choice of so auspicious an offer.

But Polly could not easily be won back to her former blitheness. She finished her part of the task in an absent-minded manner; yet by the time she was on her way to deliver her presents she was more talkative and merry.

So splendid a coach was seldom seen on the poor, narrow street where Brida lived, and big-eyed babies and listless loungers watched its progress. Brida was at school; but her mother received with loud expressions of gratitude and praise the pretty doll carriage which Polly had brought.

Elsie, in a still narrower, dirtier street, had a similar gift; while for the others of Polly's hospital friends who had returned to their homes there were books and paper dolls, pocket knives and boxes of candy. It was a pleasant hour, yet Polly was not sorry when the carriage turned towards the hospital.

Mrs. Jocelyn would not go in, and the little girl bade her good-bye with a clinging embrace.

"I love you de-arly!" she whispered: which made the little lady smile happily to herself all the way up the street.

Nobody was in the Doctor's office, and Polly lingered by the pile of packages which the footman had deposited on the couch. She was pulling out David's present from under the others, the present that had finally been changed from a fruit knife to a flute, when a voice from the doorway called out:--

"Hul-lo, Pol-lee!"

She turned, to see David's merry face.

"You can't guess what I've got for you!" chuckled the lad.

"You could n't possibly guess what I've got for you!" she retorted gaily.

David's eyes opened wonderingly, falling on the pile of bundles. Then he went back to his own secret.

Putting his hand in his pocket, he drew forth what Polly had feared she should never see again.

"My locket and chain!" she cried.

David grinned happily, and passed over the necklace.

"Where did you get it?" she questioned.

"You may thank Cornelius for it," he told her. "I met him down on Grant Street, and--I don't know what made me--I happened to speak of your losing this. He was interested all at once, and wanted me to tell him just how it looked. When I said the locket was set with turquoises, he clapped his hand on his side and cried out, 'I bet yer that was it! I bet yer 't was!' It seems he'd seen a boy--only this morning--showing a locket to a little kid, and he thought then it was queer he should be having a girl's locket round that way. Cornelius said he could get it easy enough of the boy had it with him. So we went round to the school, and waited till 't was out. He had to go on an errand for his father this afternoon, and so was excused early.

"Burt Sehl is the boy's name, and Cornelius and I walked along with him till we got off the street--Cornel' was sharp enough not to tackle him near the school. As soon as the crowd thinned out, he asked him if he had that locket, and at first Burt put up a bluff. Finally he admitted that he got it from Greg. Simpson; said he swapped a lot of tops and marbles for it."

"I should n't suppose he'd have given it up," cried Polly excitedly.

David laughed. "He did n't without a tussle; but Cornelius was more than a match for him--my! Don't I wish I were as strong as he!"

"You will be some day," encouraged Polly. "But I'm glad I chose that book for Cornelius--it's all about a knight!"

"What book?" queried David.

"Oh, the book I left at his home for him this afternoon! I forgot," and she caught up the long parcel for David. "I hope you'll like that," she said.

The boy's eyes glistened when he saw what it was.

"Oh, you don't know how many times I've wished I had a flute!" he cried, fingering the little instrument delightedly.

"What's going on here?" called Dr. Dudley, from the open door.

"These are going _in here!_" flashed Polly, deftly transferring a square, thin package from the couch to the Doctor's pocket.

It caught and held by one corner, but the physician did not leave it long. He looked at it critically, and then laid it on the table, and began untying the bright ribbon which bound it.

"You have seen the hole in my Sunday handkerchief!" exclaimed the Doctor, dramatically, his eyes a-twinkle as he opened the box.

Polly and David laughed.

The handkerchiefs were fine and dainty enough to suit the most fastidious gentleman, and Dr. Dudley expressed sincere admiration for the gift.

Then the story of the locket had to be told again, and at its end David discovered that it was time for him to be at his new home.

Polly began to look over the packages, picking out what she wished to carry upstairs at once.

"Are n't you going to tell me about your visit?" asked the Doctor, dropping into his easiest chair with a luxurious sigh of relief, after a hard day.

The little girl's face grew suddenly grave. In the pleasure of the last hour she had forgotten the trouble that had been looming ahead of her ever since Mrs. Jocelyn's proposition. She laid Mabel's doll back on the pile, and came slowly over to the Doctor.