Part 62

"Grandpapa," said Phronsie, stroking his white face, "see, it's all tied up high."

"Sit still, Phronsie," said Mrs. Fisher, keeping her fingers on the cut. Would the doctor ever come? Besides Joel, Thomas and several more messengers were despatched with orders for Dr. Pennell and to find Dr. Fisher, with the names of other doctors if these failed. God would send some one of them soon, she knew.

Phronsie obediently sat quite still, although she longed to show Grandpapa the white bandages drawn tightly around her arm. And she smoothed his hair, while he clasped his hands in her lap.

"I want Polly," she said presently.

"Stay where you are, Polly," said her mother, who had telegraphed this before with her eyes, over Phronsie's yellow hair.

Polly, at the sound of Phronsie's voice, had leaned forward, but now stood quite still, clasping her hands tightly together.

"Speak to her, Polly," said Jasper.

But Polly shook her head, unable to utter a sound.

"Polly, you must," said Jasper, for Phronsie was trying to turn in her mother's lap, and saying in a worried way, "Where's Polly? I want Polly."

"Polly is over there," said Mamsie, "but I do not think it's best for her to come now. But she'll speak to you, Phronsie."

"How funny!" laughed Phronsie. "Polly can't come, but she'll talk across the room."

Everything turned black before Polly's eyes; but she began, "Yes, Pet, I'm here," very bravely.

"I am so glad you are there, Polly," said Phronsie, easily satisfied.

Footsteps rapid and light were heard on the stairs. Polly and Jasper flew away from the doorway to let Dr. Pennell, his little case in his hand, come in.

"Well, well!" he exclaimed cheerily, "so now it's Phronsie; I'm coming to her this time," for he had often dropped in to call or to dine since the railway accident.

"Yes," said Phronsie, with a little laugh of delight, for she very much liked Dr. Pennell. He always took her on his lap, and told her stories; and he had a way of tucking certain little articles in his pockets to have her hunt for them. So they had gotten on amazingly well.

"Why, where--" Phronsie began in a puzzled way.

"Is Dr. Fisher?" Dr. Pennell finished it for her, rapidly going on with his work. "Well, he'll be here soon, I think. And you know he always likes me to do things when he isn't on hand. So I've come."

"And I like you very much," said Phronsie, wriggling her toes in satisfaction.

"I know that; we are famous friends, Phronsie," said the doctor, with one of those pleasant smiles of his that showed his white teeth.

"What's famous?" asked Phronsie, keeping her grave eyes on his face.

"Oh, fine; it means first-rate. We are fine friends, aren't we, Phronsie?"

"Yes, we are," declared Phronsie, bending forward to see his work the better, and taking her eyes from his face.

"There, there, you must sit quite straight. That's a nice child, Phronsie. And see here! I must take you sometime in my carriage when I go on my calls. Will you go, Phronsie?" and Dr. Pennell smiled again.

"Yes, I will." Phronsie nodded her yellow head, while she fastened her eyes on his face. "I used to go with Papa Fisher when I was at the little brown house, and I liked it; I did."

"Well, and now you will go with me," laughed Dr. Pennell. "Now, Phronsie, I think you are fixed up quite nicely," slipping the various articles he had used, deftly into his little bag, and snapping it to.

"Not a very bad affair," he said, whirling around to old Mr. King, drawn deeply within a big chair, having already telegraphed the same to Mother Fisher over Phronsie's head.

"Thank the Lord!" exclaimed the old gentleman.