Dr. Dudley chuckled responsively.

"I don't think you appreciate Miss Lucy," Polly continued.

The Doctor's eyebrows went up. "Don't I?" he returned meekly.

"You don't act as if you did," Polly sighed; "and I want you to,
for she's so sweet and little and--cuddly, you know. You could
n't call High Price cuddly; could you?"

"It is n't a term I should apply to her," agreed the Doctor,
with the hint of a smile.

"Miss Lucy would have liked Popover going to get along without
Miss Lucy, 'specially at bedtime."

"What does she do then?"

"Oh, we tell stories!--at least, I do, and sometimes she does,
and generally we sing--real soft, you know, so it won't disturb
anybody. Then she says a little prayer, and we go to bed. Dear
me, how we shall miss her! Why, the other night, when Aimee's arm
ached, Miss Lucy took her right in her lap, and rocked her to
sleep! And when little Isabel cries for her mamma, Miss Lucy's
just as nice to her, and cuddles her p so sweet! This is the way
High Price will do: she'll say, 'Is-a-bel'" (and Polly's tone was
in almost exact imitation of the nurse's measured accent), "'lie
still and go to sleep! The ward must be kept quiet.'"

Dr. Dudley laughed. Then the said gravely:--