Polly of the Hospital Staff Part 15

"It is mighty hard to love some folks," meditated the Colonel. "I think I should rather do a season's ploughing than to attempt to love that Aunt Jane."

Polly smiled, and then returned to the question she had left behind. "I guess she's pretty good to me," she said. "She never whipped me."

"Whipped you!" the Colonel exclaimed. "I should hope not!"

"Aunts do whip sometimes," Polly nodded soberly. "Bessie Jackson's aunt whipped her--awful! I'd run away!"

"Yes," the Colonel agreed, "that would be the best thing in such a case--though perhaps this Bessie deserved the whipping."

"No, she did n't!" Polly a.s.sured him.

"Well, now, I'll tell you," he went on confidentially, "if anybody ever lays a finger on you, just you come to my house, and I'll see that you are treated all right. Remember that now!"

Polly chuckled a "thank you," and Colonel Gresham began talking about the park, the entrance of which they were nearing.

Polly tried to put Aunt Jane from her mind; but the threatened possibilities kept thrusting themselves into the Colonel's merry speeches, until she scarcely comprehended what he was saying.

Little by little, however, the beauties of her surroundings overpowered all else, and Aunt Jane was for the time almost forgotten.

The wise men who had planned Forest Park had known better than to try to improve on nature's handiwork, and rocks and ravines, brooks and pools, wooded slopes and ferny tangles, were left practically unchanged. Polly loved birds and flowers and all the scents and sounds of summer fields and woods, and now, as the air came laden with faint perfume, and a carol burst into the stillness, she clasped her little hands together with a soft breath of delight.

Colonel Gresham watcher her in furtive silence. Finally she turned towards him.

"I should think it would make sick people well to come out, here should n't you?"

"Some of them," he nodded.

"I'm going to tell Mrs. Jocelyn all about it. Perhaps it would make her happier if she's come."

"What Mrs. Jocelyn is that?" asked the Colonel.

"I don't know her other name. The one that's at the hospital-- she's small, and has white hair. Her husband and little boy died."

"Oh, yes! Juliet Jocelyn, probably; but I did n't know that she was sick."

"She's had an operation, I think; but she's getting well now.

I've been to see her twice. Yesterday I read her a story."

"I hope she appreciated it," observed the Colonel dryly.

"I'm not sure," Polly replied; "she did n't say. Do you know Mrs. Jocelyn?"

"I knew her a long time ago," was the grave answer, as he turned his horse into the road that wound up the eastern side of the mountain.

"Oh, you're going to take the Cliff Drive!" cried Polly delightedly. "Dr. Dudley could n't go, because they won't let autos up there."

"No, for one might meet a skittish horse. I like to come up here once in a while for the view."

"I'm not going to look till we get clear up," Polly declared.

And resolutely she kept her eyes the other way.

"Now!" announced Colonel Gresham.

Polly turned her head--and held her breath. Then she let it out in one long sigh of rapture.

Before them lay the city, glittering in the afternoon sunshine, while beyond, to the north and east and south, green hills formed a living frame for the picture.

"It is worth coming for," said the Colonel, at last. "There is your home--see?"

"Oh, yes! It looks like a castle in a forest."

And then--when joy was uppermost--Aunt Jane's threat crowded in.

Polly's eyes wandered from the "castle" in the direction of the home she dreaded.

Colonel Gresham noted the sudden shadow on the bright face, and took up the reins.

On the way back they stopped at a confectioner's, and the Colonel brought out a package and laid it on Polly's lap. "There is something to remember the drive by," he said.

"Oh, thank you!" she beamed. "But I don't need anything more to make me remember it," she added. "It has been beautiful--right straight through!--Except Aunt Jane!" she put in honestly, under her breath, and again her face was shadowed.

"It is the best way," observed the Colonel, "to let disagreeable things slip off our shoulders at once. If we should carry them all, we should have a sorry load."

"I guess I'll do that way," smiled Polly; "but Aunt Jane don't slip easy!"

"Shake her off," laughed the Colonel, "and she'll go!"

It was a happy moment up in the ward when Polly opened her box of candy. Such chocolates, such candied cherries and strawberries, with tiny tongs to lift them with, the children had never seen.

They chose one apiece all round, which Miss Lucy said was enough for that day, and Polly carried the box down to the Doctor's office, that he might taste her sweets. It never occurred to her that she was ent.i.tled to more than the others.

Dr. Dudley heard all about the drive, but nothing of Aunt Jane.

Polly had decided to take the Colonel's advice--if she could, and she recollected with relief that Aunt Jane was always more ready to threaten than to perform.

A few days afterwards Dr. Dudley early for Polly.

"Anyway it is n't Aunt Jane at this time," she a.s.sured herself, as she ran downstairs.

"Mrs. Jocelyn wants to see you right away," the Doctor told her.

"She does?" wondered Polly. "Do you know for what?"

"I don't _know_ anything," he smiled; "but I _guess_ a good deal."

"Oh! What do you guess it is?" she entreated.

He shook his head laughingly. "I should hate to have you discover that I was n't a good guesser," he said. "Run along, and find out for sure!"

Polly was astonished to see how greatly the little lady had changed. Her cheeks reflected the delicate pink of the robe she was wearing, and her eyes were glad. Her voice was full of eagerness.

"Here comes the little sunbeam!" she smiled. "Did I interrupt any tasks or play?" She drew Polly within the circle of her arm.