“If ‘me’ is Dolly,” dimpled Polly, taking the small, thin hand in hers. “Oh, yes, of course, I’m Dolly! Are you the lady who took Gay to ride?” she asked shyly. “The very one,” Polly nodded. “Now, what do you say to a ride yourself this afternoon?” The little pale face was pink with surprise and a kind of awed joy. “Oh!” she breathed, “oh!--this afternoon?” “I can have father’s car this afternoon,” Polly explained. “It has been busy since the day that I made Gladys Guinevere’s acquaintance.” The little girl smiled. “What a long, funny name she’s got! Mine is Dorothy, but ’most everybody calls me Dolly. Sometimes Sardis does; just once in awhile, you know.” “And who is Sardis?” “Why, don’t you know Sardis? His name was in the paper, Sardis Elisha Merrifield. He was the valedictorian of his class.” The long word fell easily from the small lips. “At the Grammar School?” asked Polly. “Oh, no, at Yale College! He graduated two years ago. He is a minister, you know. This summer he is preaching up in Raineville, or he calls it ‘learning to preach.’ I guess it’s preaching all right.” The curl-crowned head wagged confidently. “You see, he has been two years in the Theological School, and he’s got one more year before he can be a full-fledged minister. Then I’m going to live with him!” Her face glowed with radiant delight. “He says I am going to live with him if he has to take me to Kamchatka.” Polly joined in her laugh. “Is he the only brother you have?” she questioned. “Yes, he and me and Aunt Sophie are all there is. There used to be father and mother and grandpa and James and Israel and little Dorcas; but they’ve all gone to heaven. I’ve lived with Aunt Sophie almost ever since I can remember. Queer, you don’t know Sardis! Seem ’s if everybody ought to know him, he’s so nice.” “Perhaps I shall know him some day,” smiled Polly. “Perhaps,” echoed Dolly wistfully. “He isn’t here much. I know you’d like him--you just couldn’t help it.” Polly had to make her visit a very short one, for she would be needed by her little charges. She went back to the House of Joy, her heart full of sympathy for the wee girl who had never walked and who had been waiting a long year for the ride that had not come. “She shall go as often as I can take her,” she promised herself as she rode home in the trolley-car. Clementina, Muriel, Jeffy, and Little Duke were selected by Polly for the afternoon’s pleasure, and Dr. Dudley sanctioned her choice. Aunt Sophie was at home when the automobile stopped in front of the low-roofed house in Prattsboro. The little maid was at the window, hat and coat on, and at once all smiles when she saw Polly. While the chauffeur was carrying his light burden out to the car Polly found time for a moment’s talk with Dolly’s aunt, and the quiet, wise-eyed little woman pleased her mightily.