Pollyanna by Eleanor H. Porter


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Page 51

Pollyanna frowned sympathetically.

"Yes, I know. THAT part is too bad--about the money--when you've
been saving it, too, all this time."

"When--eh?"

"Saving it--buying beans and fish balls, you know. Say, DO you
like beans?--or do you like turkey better, only on account of the
sixty cents?"

"Look a-here, child, what are you talking about?"

Pollyanna smiled radiantly.

"About your money, you know--denying yourself, and saving it for
the heathen. You see, I found out about it. Why, Mr. Pendleton,
that's one of the ways I knew you weren't cross inside. Nancy
told me."

The man's jaw dropped.

"Nancy told you I was saving money for the--Well, may I inquire
who Nancy is?"

"Our Nancy. She works for Aunt Polly."

"Aunt Polly! Well, who is Aunt Polly?"

"She's Miss Polly Harrington. I live with her."

The man made a sudden movement.

"Miss--Polly--Harrington!" he breathed. "You live with--HER!"

"Yes; I'm her niece. She's taken me to bring up--on account of my
mother, you know," faltered Pollyanna, in a low voice. "She was
her sister. And after father--went to be with her and the rest of
us in Heaven, there wasn't any one left for me down here but the
Ladies' Aid; so she took me."

The man did not answer. His face, as he lay back on the pillow
now, was very white--so white that Pollyanna was frightened. She
rose uncertainly to her feet.

"I reckon maybe I'd better go now," she proposed. "I--I hope
you'll like--the jelly."

The man turned his head suddenly, and opened his eyes. There was
a curious longing in their dark depths which even Pollyanna saw,
and at which she marvelled.

"And so you are--Miss Polly Harrington's niece," he said gently.

"Yes, sir."

Still the man's dark eyes lingered on her face, until Pollyanna,
feeling vaguely restless, murmured:

"I--I suppose you know--her."

John Pendleton's lips curved in an odd smile.

"Oh, yes; I know her." He hesitated, then went on, still with
that curious smile. "But--you don't mean--you can't mean that it
was Miss Polly Harrington who sent that jelly--to me?" he said
slowly.

Pollyanna looked distressed.

"N-no, sir: she didn't. She said I must be very sure not to let
you think she did send it. But I--"

"I thought as much," vouchsafed the man, shortly, turning away
his head. And Pollyanna, still more distressed, tiptoed from the
room.

Under the porte-cochere she found the doctor waiting in his gig.
The nurse stood on the steps.

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Books | Photos | Paul Mutton | Wed 24th Dec 2025, 4:53