Mrs. Edmonson had received no answer to her letter. Perhaps Sardis had been too busy to go to the post-office, his aunt thought likely. He lived quite a distance from the center, she said. She did not appear to be much disturbed; but little Dolly looked whiter and wispier than ever. Polly’s heart ached to see her. “It won’t make any difference whether we hear or not,” Mrs. Edmonson said dully. “I know Sardis well enough to know he would not do anything about it. So don’t let it change your plans in the least. I may get a letter to-morrow. He’ll answer--he always does.” Polly drove sadly home and told her father the disappointing news. He was sorry and said so. “Probably,” he added, “the child won’t live through the summer if she stays here.” Polly went back to her duties, almost wishing that she had never seen Dolly Merrifield. The next day went its hot, lagging way, and Paradise Ward prepared for an early morning start. Polly put her little folks to bed early, and when they were asleep she went downstairs, leaving a young nurse in charge. “No message from Prattsboro, I suppose,” she said to her mother. “Not a word. It is too bad.” “I’d like to give that Sardis a shaking,” said Polly grimly. “When the dear child could be so comfortable and happy up on Overlook!” The two were still talking when eleven strokes from the clock in the next room started Polly to her feet. “And I meant to be asleep by this time!” she laughed. One of the hospital orderlies appeared at the door, an envelope in his hand. “Dr. Dudley wished me to give you this. He will be down in a few minutes.” Polly took the telegram wonderingly, then opened it. “Mother!” she cried--“listen!” _Raineville, New Hampshire, July--_ To ROBERT DUDLEY, M.D., Children’s House of Joy, Fair Harbor, Conn. Your letter received. A big Yes. Everlasting thanks to you. SARDIS MERRIFIELD CHAPTER XIV PARADISE WARD ON WHEELS The little gray house in Prattsboro, opposite Mrs. Hamilton Garde’s garage, saw busy hours throughout that sultry July night of Sardis Merrifield’s message. Aunt Sophie and a kindly neighbor mended and stitched and washed and ironed and packed, to get Dolly ready for her journey next day and the outdoor months to follow. Meanwhile the little maid for whom they labored slept quietly in the adjoining room, all unknowing of the delights in store for her. The next morning at eight o’clock a little procession waited in front of the Children’s House of Joy, making ready for its start on the long journey to Overlook Mountain.