"Ben loves to hear reading," said Polly.

"Does he? well, by that time, my little girl, I guess Ben will be
down-stairs; he's all right, Polly; don't you worry about him--and
I'll sit in the kitchen, by the bedroom door, and you can hear
nicely."

So the Hendersons went away. But somehow, before they went, a
good many things found their way out of the old-fashioned chaise
into the Peppers' little kitchen.

But Polly's eyes didn't get any better, with all the care; and the
lines of worry on Mrs. Pepper's face grew deeper and deeper. At
last, she just confronted Dr. Fisher in the kitchen, one day after his
visit to Polly, and boldly asked him if they ever could be cured. "I
know she's--and there isn't any use keeping it from me," said the
poor woman--"she's going to be stone-blind!"

"My good woman"--Dr. Fisher's voice was very gentle; and he took
the hard, brown hand in his own--"your little girl will not be blind;
I tell you the truth; but it will take some time to make her eyes
quite strong--time, and rest. She has strained them in some way,
but she will come out of it."

"Praise the Lord!" cried Mrs. Pepper, throwing her apron over her
head; and then she sobbed on, "and thank you, sir--I can't ever
thank you--for--for--if Polly was blind, we might as well give up!"

The next day, Phronsie, who had the doctor's permission to sit up,