Pollyanna: The First Glad Book. Pollyanna Grows Up: The Second Glad Book / Поллианна. Поллианна вырастает

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 today-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.

“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 today from a tight clutch on a bunch of keys.