id for a minute that you were not going to let me keep the money;
but a present has to be kept, doesn't it? Only this wasn't exactly a
present, if she did call it so. I'm glad you didn't mean that." She
drew a long, satisfied breath.

The Doctor smiled across at his wife over Polly's curls, and her eyes
told him he had decided in the wisest way.

They were still talking when Colonel Gresham and his family drove in.

Polly called a cheery, "Hullo, David!" and then, of course, they all
had to come over and tell her how glad they were to see her.

It was late before the mother could get her nestling snug for the
night; but Polly was at home again, and nobody cared.

CHAPTER XIX

TWO LETTERS

A week after Polly's return, Lady Gay Cottage was sold. Polly brought
the news from Colonel Gresham's, the Colonel having heard it downtown.

"Now what shall we do?" she questioned, atop of the announcement.
"Colonel Gresham says we can all come over there."

Dr. Dudley laughed. So did his wife, but she grew grave almost at
once.

"Very likely we can stay on just the same," was the Doctor's cheerful
opinion. "Martin Clapp isn't going to give up his new home and move
his family in here; so don't worry about it."

It was as Dr. Dudley prophesied, the tenants could remain, but with
this difference,--the rent was raised five dollars a month. The Doctor
made light of it; still Polly knew by her mother's face that it would
mean a harder pinch on other things.

If only they hadn't bought that new tire! It was delightful to be
riding again in the Colonel's beautiful present, yet the shadow that
often she detected on her mother's face she attributed to this new
trouble, and it worried her. What made it worse, she worried in
secret. The thought intruded while she was playing with Leonora and
David, it haunted her dreams by night. She began to wonder again if
she ought to have gone to live with Uncle Maurice. The question was
still undecided when something occurred that seemed to make matters
clearer.

She had been up to Mrs. Jocelyn's and was returning home late in the
afternoon. As she came in view of the hospital she noticed a small boy
standing by the gate. On nearer approach the lad's delicate profile
grew familiar, and suddenly she darted forward, crying joyfully:--

"Chris! Oh, Chris!"

He turned weakly, took a step to meet her, and then throwing out his
hands dropped to the sidewalk.

With a little scream, Pol