“It was the day after Miss Sterling came, along in September,” the story-teller began, “and she was up in her room feeling pretty lonesome—­you know how it is.”

Miss Mullaly nodded—­with a sudden droop of her lips.

“She stood there looking out of the window toward the back of the new hospital,—­it was building then,—­and she saw a little girl climbing an apple tree.  She watched her go higher and higher, after a big, bright red apple that was away up on a top branch.  Miss Sterling says she went so fast that she fairly held her breath, expecting to see her slip; but she didn’t, she’s so sure-footed, and it would have been all right if she hadn’t ventured on a rotten branch.  When she stepped out on that and reached up one hand to pick the apple, the branch broke, and down she went and lay in a little heap under the tree.

“Well, Miss Sterling said she felt as if she must fly right out of that window and go pick her up.  But it didn’t take her many minutes to run down the stairs and out the front door—­she didn’t stop to ask permission—­and over across lots to Polly.  She was in a dead faint, but in a minute she came to, and Miss Sterling ran up to the house and got Dr. Dudley and his wife, and they carried her in, and Miss Sterling went too.  The Doctor couldn’t find that Polly was hurt at all, only bruised a little—­you see, the branches had broken her fall, and she was all around again in a few days.  Miss Sterling was pretty well upset by it, so that the Doctor came home with her, and she had to go to bed, same as Polly did!  It made quite a stir here.

“Ever since then Polly has run in and out, any time of day, just as I hear she does at the hospital.  She’s that kind of a girl, never makes any trouble, and so nothing is said.”

“I guess I shall break lots of the rules before I know what they are.”

“You’ll learn ’em soon enough, don’t you worry!  There’s a long list; but you’ll get used to ’em after a while—­we have to.  There’s nothing like getting used to things.  It’s a great help.”

CHAPTER III

POLLY ADDRESSES THE BOARD

“It is a shame, Miss Nita!” Polly was saying.  “To think of it—­that you can’t curl your hair even to go to a wedding!  I wonder if father or mother could do anything.”

“Oh, no!” cried Miss Sterling, in sudden terror.  “Don’t, I beg of you, let them say a word to Miss Sniffen!  She’d turn me right out!”

“I should wish she would, if I were you.”

“Where could I go?  I’d have to sit on the sidewalk!”

Polly laughed.

“No, Miss Nita,” catching one of the slim white hands and pressing it against her cheek, “you come right over to our house when Miss Sniffen turns you outdoors, and we’ll take care of you!”

“It isn’t anything to laugh at,” sobbed the little woman.

“I know, I’m wicked to laugh; but I had a picture of you sitting on the curb in your nightgown, and I couldn’t help it!”