"Of course," the Doctor agreed; "but it means too much scrimp for you. It is what I did not anticipate. If I had more time for outside practice"--he stopped, as if musing. "And if it weren't for the coal bill!" "That coal bill is your bugbear," laughed his wife. "Don't worry, Robert! It isn't like you. Winship isn't bothering you about it, is he?" "Not a bit. It is only that I hate debt, and--" Polly involuntarily tiptoed away, feeling strangely guilty at having overheard what was not intended for her ears. So her father's salary had been cut down! And it was small enough before! She had heard the coal bill spoken of awhile ago,--yes, when she was getting ready for New York,--but she had given it no thought. And her mother had bought her new things to wear! Distress swept her heart. She was an added expense--ought she to have gone to live with her uncle? He was rich. He could pay his coal bills. He was never in pinch. Oh! did her father and mother wish she had gone? There was no peace for Polly. Dutifully she crept over to the hospital to see Ilga, but found her in a pettish mood, and she returned home more disturbed than before. She longed to offer her bank money again, but she knew it would be of no use. Besides, she did not wish her father and mother to know she had been eavesdropping. She blushed with shame at the thought. Why had she not run away at once, or gone boldly into the room. Oh, how she wished she had! Bedtime found her in the same frame of mind, although she tried to appear as if nothing had occurred. She had bidden her mother good-night, and her foot was on the stair, when the doorbell rang. "I'll go," she called softly into the library, and then skipped to answer the summons. As the door opened she gave a surprised little scream. "Harold Westwood!" The boy darted inside, clasping his cousin with a glad cry. "I supposed you were at boarding-school," Polly told him. "I was," the lad replied a bit shamefacedly. Then bravely, "I ran away to see you!" "Why, Harold!" "I don't care!" was the dogged response. "I had to!" "I shouldn't think they'd have let you come in the night," said Polly, leading him into the library. The introduction relieved the lad of the necessity of an answer; but Polly innocently plied her questions. "Why didn't Julian come, too? Was it a half-holiday?" For an instant Harold looked disconcerted. Then he replied boldly:-- "Jule doesn't know! I tell you, I ran away!" Polly's eyes widened in astonishment. Mrs. Dudley smiled understandingly. "I gave the conductor my watch for security," the boy went on. "I told him how 'twas, and he let me ride,--I guess out of his own pocket. He was a good one! You see, I spent all my money in a jiffy for the first part of the way and something to eat. I didn't s'pose tickets cost so much." "You dear child!" murmured Mrs. Dudley, her eyes soft with sympathy. Then she caught him in her arms, as if he had been a baby. "Have you had any supper?"