Behind the doctor, a young man (a trained nurse from the nearest
city) gave a disturbed exclamation.

"But, Doctor, didn't Mr. Pendleton give orders not to admit--any
one?"

"Oh, yes," nodded the doctor, imperturbably. "But I'm giving
orders now. I'll take the risk." Then he added whimsically: "You
don't know, of course; but that little girl is better than a
six-quart bottle of tonic any day. If anything or anybody can
take the grouch out of Pendleton this afternoon, she can. That's
why I sent her in."

"Who is she?"

For one brief moment the doctor hesitated.

"She's the niece of one of our best known residents. Her name is
Pollyanna Whittier. I--I don't happen to enjoy a very extensive
personal acquaintance with the little lady as yet; but lots of my
patients do--I'm thankful to say!"

The nurse smiled.

"Indeed! And what are the special ingredients of this
wonder-working--tonic of hers?"

The doctor shook his head.

"I don't know. As near as I can find out it is an overwhelming,