“Not since dinner. Is he missing?” “No,” laughed Polly. “I meant about Overlook. We were wondering at dinner how you would like the appointment.” The young man’s face flamed. “Indeed, few things would give me as much pleasure.” “Then it is all right,” Polly exclaimed. “I thought you’d fill the position better than anybody else--” “Oh, Miss Dudley, you are too flattering.” “No, it is true. The children just adore you.” “Oh!” “Yes,” Polly went on, “I told father I thought you’d be the very best one to go with us, and he agreed with me. I didn’t know but he had seen you already.” “I am very much obliged to you for your good opinion,” he replied, his face still aflush. “How soon are you going?” he added. “As soon as we can get ready. It may be lonely for you,” she suggested. “It is miles away from anybody, except a few farmers along the side of the mountain, and you feel farther off than you really are, because only one farmhouse is in sight.” “I could never be lonely, Miss Dudley, never,” he assured her. “I am certain I shall love it all.” His blush deepened as he let slip the word. “That’s jolly,” Polly smiled. “It was the only thing I was afraid of. I am so glad you aren’t that kind. I think the sunsets up there--yes, and the sunrises--must be magnificent. And the air! If you have never been up on a Vermont mountain you can have scarcely any idea of the wonderful air. I am sure it will do the children no end of good.” Of course, Dr. Abbe thought just as Polly did, and they soon parted, the girl to forget all about the young physician, and Dr. Abbe to wonder if his good fortune were really true or if he were dreaming. CHAPTER XII PATRICIA AND A FEW OTHERS During these days that were filled to the very brim with plans and the carrying-out of them Polly had little time for thoughts of David or herself. Not a word had come from her quondam lover, until she had almost ceased to expect to hear from him. To her astonishment, when she had time for reflection, she found that David did not seem to occupy the same place in her heart as before this overpowering interest in the hospital’s new possession. She did not quite understand it. She felt that she still loved David as well as ever, yet she was as confident as she had been on that night down at Samoosic Point, that she could not accept more promises which were almost sure to be broken. Occasionally came a day when she would long for David with all the ardor of her nature. Even Overlook would seem commonplace in comparison with this irresistible passion to be to him what she once had been. Patricia, never very tactful, spoke one morning of David. “Doesn’t he ever write to you?” she asked. Polly’s simple negative did not satisfy her. “Great lover he is!” she burst out. “It shows how much he really cares--to break off in this fashion!” “But, Patty, you know we were never engaged,” returned Polly, flushing and paling with the memories which were thus suddenly brought before her.