er
might pass their morning in delicious quietude. Not hearing Mrs.
Cameron, she argued with herself that no one _could_ possibly blame her
for not letting her in. Therefore, in high good humor, this young lady
sat down to read, work, and chatter gayly. As the Doctor listened, he
said to himself that surely there never was in the world a sweeter or
more agreeable companion than his Polly.

With all her precautions, however, as the hours flew by, sundry muffled
and distant sounds did penetrate to the sick chamber.

"What a peculiar noise!" remarked the Doctor.

"Can it be mice?" queried Polly's _most_ innocent voice.

More time passed.

Suddenly the sharp and unmistakable sound of gravel being flung against
the window forced the young lady to go to ascertain what was the matter.

On looking out, she saw what caused her to utter an amazed exclamation.

Mrs. Cameron, very red in the face, and holding the lost Scorpion in one
encircling arm, while the other was thrown firmly round a most
sulky-looking David; Firefly, pale and with traces of tears on her face;
Flower, looking excited and eager--all stood under the window. This
group were loud in demanding instant admission to the Doctor's room.

"What is it, what is it?" questioned the patient from the bed.

"Oh, you are _not_ strong enough to see them, father."

"To see whom?"

"Aunt Maria--Scorpion--the children."

"Yes, I am quite strong enough. Let them come up at once."

"But father!"

"But Polly! You don't suppose seriously that your Aunt Maria can disturb
my equanimity?"

"Oh! She will worry you with so many tales."

"About my very naughty family?"

"Yes, yes; you had much better not see her."

"Because she wants me to get a chaperon for you?"

"Oh! yes--oh! don't see her."

"My dear, you can trust me; you happen to be _my_ children, not hers. I
would rather have the matter out. I knew there was something wrong from
the way little Fly kissed my hand this morning. Show the deputation
outside the window into the audience chamber at once, Polly."

So admonished, the curtains had to be drawn back, the baize door
reopened, and Polly--a most unwilling hostess--had to receive her
guests. But no words can describe the babel of sounds which there and
then filled the Doctor's room; no words can tell how patiently the blind
man listened.

Aunt Maria had a good tale to tell, and it lost nothing in the telling.
The story of Scorpion's disappearance; of