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"Brida has first right, because it's her kitten." "Oh, Popover!" squealed the little owner delightedly, snuggling the furry creature to her cheek. "Where's Miss Lucy?" demanded Polly, waiving the children's eager questions. "Oh, they sent to have her come somewhere!" answered Ethel Jones. "She went in an awful hurry, and said prob'ly she'd be back pretty soon; but she has n't come yet."
The wonderful giant story, which ended merrily, as all of Polly's stories did end, made Moses her valiant follower as long as he remained in the ward; the tender little slumber song, which Polly's mother had taught her, put the tiny Isabel to sleep; and the verses about the "Kit-Cat Luncheon" completely won the heart of Irish Brida. "I got a kitty, too!" she confided.
"What else could I do with it?" "You could n't, you blessed child! So we'll have David downstairs just as soon as his bed is ready, won't we?" "Yes, and how glad he'll be! Oh, how glad he'll be! And Brida and Elsie they've been dreadfully afraid they'd have to go home before he came down; they want to see him so! Won't they be pleased!"
I thought it would make her happier," she lamented, "and all it did was to tire her!" Polly's eyes were brimming over with tears. "Never mind, dear," said Miss Lucy comfortingly. "You did your part, and as well as you could; that's all any of us can do. So don't worry about it. There's Brida looking this way, as if she were just longing to talk with you."
Such sudden shifts were common enough in the hospital, but only twice, during Polly's stay, had the occurred in the convalescent ward, and Miss Lucy had been in charge for so long now that she had ceased giving herself any worry over a possible change. For a moment the little girl stood hesitant; then the sight of Brida, white and scared on her pillow, roused her to quick thought.
"It's 739 Liberty Street," repeated Brida; "an old brown house next to the corner." Miss Lucy thought it was rather too warm for a walk, especially as Polly was not very strong yet; but the little girl urged it with such sparkling eyes that she finally let her go, bidding her keep on the shady side of the street and not to stay out too long.
Then, clearing the rope with a graceful bound, she turned to one of the girls. "Can you tell me, please, where Mrs. MacCarthy lives? Brida MacCarthy's mother?" With a second surprise on her freckled face, the child pointed to a fat, red-cheeked woman, who was cooling herself with a big palm-leaf fan, in a basement doorway just beyond.
"She shan't wait another minute," smiled, and off she skipped, to make Brida and her followers merry. A warning From Aunt Jane Towards noon came a telephone call for Polly to go down to Dr. Dudley's office. Usually she sped gladly to obey such a summons; now she was assailed by a sudden fear. "Have I made her very much worse?" was her instant inquiry, as the Doctor opened his door?
Polly herself beamed on everybody, and all the hospital people seemed to agree that very good fortune had come to her, and to be glad in it. Then there came a hot day which tried the patience of the small invalids. Polly flitted from cot to cot with her little fluttering fan and her cooling drinks. The afternoon breeze had not yet arrived when Brida MacCarthy begged for a story.
"Thank you," was the polite response, and Polly descended the short flight of steps into the bricked area. The woman looked up expectantly. "I'm Polly May, of the hospital staff," the little girl announced modestly, "and Brida would like her kitten, please." The smile on Mrs. MacCarthy's face expanded into a big, joyous laugh. "Does she now? Moira! Katie! D'ye here that? Brida's sint f'r her cat!
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