Part 25 (1/2)

”Oh, you did n't say much! Only you kept calling for Eva, and so I pretended I was she, and I called you Uncle David. And you heard the rain, and thought it was dripping on your head, and you wanted me to hold my hand up to catch it. That was about all.”

Polly cast furtive glances at the Colonel. She could make nothing of his face, beyond that it was very grave. She wondered if he were displeased with her.

After a time he spoke.

”You have done me a kindness that can never be repaid. Such debts cannot be balanced with money. So we won't talk about pay.

But I should like to do something for you--give you a sort of remembrance. I don't know what would make you happiest; but you may chose, 'to the half of my kingdom'--anything but Lone Star.

I'm afraid I should hate to give up Lone Star!”

Polly laughed, and the Colonel laughed too, which put the talk on a cheery footing, and she a.s.sured him that she should n't have chosen Lone Star anyway, because she did n't know how to take care of a horse, and had n't any place to keep him in.

Then her face grew suddenly serious, and she sat gazing at the pattern of the rug so long that Colonel Gresham smiled to himself.

”Is it too much of a problem?” he finally asked. ”Can't you think of anything within my power that would give you a little happiness?”

”Oh, yes!” Polly answered quickly; ”but I'm afraid--” she stopped.

”Afraid of what?” he questioned.

”Afraid it is too much to ask,” she replied softly, lifting her thoughtful eyes to his.

”No, it is n't! Anything that will add to your happiness--”

”Oh, this would make me very happy!”

”Out with it then! 'To the half of my kingdom,' remember!”

”And you won't be offended?”

”I give you my word,” he smiled.

”Well,” she began slowly, ”I should like best of all to have you --oh, I wish you would forgive David's mother, and love her again! She loves you so much!”

For several minutes--it seemed an hour to Polly--the marble clock over the fireplace, with the bronze mother and child sitting there, tick-tocked its way uninterruptedly. The little girl did not dare to look up. Her heart beat very fast indeed. It hurt her to breathe. Had she made Colonel Gresham so angry that he would never speak to her again? She wondered how long it would be before she could gain enough courage for just one glance at his face. The he spoke.

”You have given me a hard task, little Polly! It would be easier to go through the fever again!” His voice was gentle--very gentle, but sad.

”Oh, please, please excuse me!” she exclaimed earnestly. ”I ought not to have asked it! I'll take it all back! You said what would make me happiest--and so--and so--” She put her face down in her hands. ”I did n't mean to hurt you!” she sobbed, ”I did n't! I did n't!”

”Child! Child! This will never do! It is I who am wholly to blame! You have done nothing to excuse. I shall keep my promise to you, if you are sure that what you have asked will give you the greatest happiness.”

He waited for her answer--Polly never guessed with what selfish longing.

Her face burst into radiance.

”Oh, will you!” she exclaimed. ”It will make me so happy, happy, I shan't know what to do!”

Colonel Gresham was very pale, but Polly did not notice. She was looking through rose-colored gla.s.ses.

”Is David still at the hospital?” the Colonel inquired.