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

”

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.

“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.

“Well, Miss Pollyanna, may I have the pleasure of seeing you home?” asked the doctor smilingly. “I started to drive on a few minutes ago; then it occurred to me that I’d wait for you.”

“Thank you, sir. I’m glad you did.

“Do you?” smiled the doctor, nodding his head in farewell to the young man on the steps. “Well, as near as I can judge, there are a good many things you �love’ to do-eh?” he added, as they drove briskly away.

Pollyanna laughed.

“Why, I don’t know. I reckon perhaps there are,” she admitted. “I like to do �most everything that’s LIVING. Of course I don’t like the other things very well-sewing, and reading out loud, and all that.

“No? What are they, then?”

“Aunt Polly says they’re �learning to live,’” sighed Pollyanna, with a rueful smile.

The doctor smiled now-a little queerly.

“Does she? Well, I should think she might say-just that.”

“Yes,” responded Pollyanna. “But I don’t see it that way at all. I don’t think you have to LEARN how to live. I didn’t, anyhow.”

The doctor drew a long sigh.

“After all, I’m afraid some of us-do have to, little girl,” he said. Then, for a time he was silent. Pollyanna, stealing a glance at his face, felt vaguely sorry for him. He looked so sad. She wished, uneasily, that she could “do something.” It was this, perhaps, that caused her to say in a timid voice:

“Dr. Chilton, I should think being a doctor would, be the very gladdest kind of a business there was.”

The doctor turned in surprise.