But she has something the matter with her back, so all she
can do is to lie there on a sort of frame, and look at the wall of
her room."
The doctor paused. While he had been talking, he had watched the
faces of the girls, curious to see the effect which his short
story would have on them. Polly's cheeks were flushed, Jean's eyes
were shining with her interest, but Katharine's lashes drooped on
her cheek, and were a little moist. He nodded approvingly to
himself, as he looked at her.
"Go on, papa," urged Polly.
"There isn't much more to say," returned her father, resting his
arm on the back of her chair. "It occurred to me to-day to wonder
if you girls couldn't each of you take a day a week,--there are
just the six of you, you know,--and run in to see her for a few
minutes after school. She is perfectly well, except for her back,
and you can imagine how dull it must be for her there. Now,
suppose you could drop in for half an hour and get acquainted with
her, or read something simple to her? She's not up to 'Pilgrim's
Progress' yet." And he pinched Polly's cheek playfully.
He stopped again. This time there was a murmur of assent from his
hearers. Then he resumed,--
"Now, talk this over among yourselves and see what you think of
it.
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