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Page 48
"JOHN PENDLETON!"
"Yes. Nancy told me his name. Maybe you know him."
Miss Polly did not answer this. Instead she asked:
"Do YOU know him?"
Pollyanna nodded.
"Oh, yes. He always speaks and smiles--now. He's only cross
OUTSIDE, you know. I'll go and get the jelly. Nancy had it 'most
fixed when I came in," finished Pollyanna, already halfway across
the room.
"Pollyanna, wait! Miss Polly's voice was suddenly very stern.
I've changed my mind. I would prefer that Mrs. Snow had that
jelly to-day--as usual. That is all. You may go now."
Pollyanna's face fell.
"Oh, but Aunt Polly, HERS will last. She can always be sick and
have things, you know; but his is just a broken leg, and legs
don't last--I mean, broken ones. He's had it a whole week now."
"Yes, I remember. I heard Mr. John Pendleton had met with an
accident," said Miss Polly, a little stiffly; "but--I do not care
to be sending jelly to John Pendleton, Pollyanna."
"I know, he is cross--outside," admitted Pollyanna, sadly, "so I
suppose you don't like him. But I wouldn't say 'twas you sent it.
I'd say 'twas me. I like him. I'd be glad to send him jelly."
Miss Polly began to shake her head again. Then, suddenly, she
stopped, and asked in a curiously quiet voice:
"Does he know who you--are, Pollyanna?"
The little girl sighed.
"I reckon not. I told him my name, once, but he never calls me
it--never."
"Does he know where you--live?"
"Oh, no. I never told him that."
"Then he doesn't know you're my--niece?"
"I don't think so."
For a moment there was silence. Miss Polly was looking at
Pollyanna with eyes that did not seem to see her at all. The
little girl, shifting impatiently from one small foot to the
other, sighed audibly. Then Miss Polly roused herself with a
start.
"Very well, Pollyanna," she said at last, still in that queer
voice, so unlike her own; "you may you may take the jelly to Mr.
Pendleton as your own gift. But understand: I do not send it. Be
very sure that he does not think I do!"
"Yes'm--no'm--thank you, Aunt Polly," exulted Pollyanna, as she
flew through the door.
CHAPTER XV. DR. CHILTON
The great gray pile of masonry looked very different to Pollyanna
when she made her second visit to the house of Mr. John
Pendleton. Windows were open, an elderly woman was hanging out
clothes in the back yard, and the doctor's gig stood under the
porte-cochere.
As before Pollyanna went to the side door. This time she rang the
bell--her fingers were not stiff to-day from a tight clutch on a
bunch of keys.
A familiar-looking small dog bounded up the steps to greet her,
but there was a slight delay before the woman who had been
hanging out the clothes opened the door.
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