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One day on the way home from Sunday school Dr. Chilton met Pollyanna.
“Mr. Pendleton sent a special request for you to go to see him this afternoon. He says it’s very important.”
Pollyanna nodded happily.
“Yes, it is, I know. I’ll go.”
The doctor looked at her with some surprise.
“Yesterday you seemed more upsetting than soothing to him, young lady.”
Pollyanna laughed.
“Oh, it wasn’t me, it was Aunt Polly.”
The doctor turned with a quick start.
“Your – aunt!” he ejaculated.
“Yes,” nodded Pollyanna, happily. “That’s the story-part, you see. I didn’t know it till Nancy told me. She said Aunt Polly had a lover years ago, and they quarrelled. She didn’t know who it was at first. But now we know, it’s Mr. Pendleton!”
“Oh! No; I – didn’t know it,” the doctor said quietly.
“Yes; and I’m so glad now. It’s come out lovely. Mr. Pendleton asked me to come and live with him, but of course I wouldn’t leave Aunt Polly like that – after she’d been so good to me. Then he told me all about the woman he loved and I understood he still needed her heart and hand; and I was so glad! For of course if he wants to make up the quarrel, everything will be all right now, and Aunt Polly and I will both go to live there, or he’ll come to live with us. Of course, Aunt Polly doesn’t know yet, and we haven’t got everything settled; so I suppose that is why he wanted to see me this afternoon, sure.”
The doctor sat suddenly erect. There was an odd smile on his lips.
“Yes; now I understand why Mr. John Pendleton wants to see you today, Pollyanna,” he nodded.
When Pollyanna later saw Mr. Pendleton he was very nervous.
“Pollyanna,” he began at once. “I’ve been trying all night to puzzle out what you meant by all that, yesterday – about my wanting your Aunt Polly’s hand and heart here all those years. What did you mean?”
“Why, because you were lovers, you know once; and I was so glad you still felt that way now.”
“Lovers! – your Aunt Polly and I?”
At the obvious surprise in the man’s voice, Pollyanna opened wide her eyes.
“Why, Mr. Pendleton, Nancy said you were!”
The man gave a short little laugh.
“Well, I’m afraid I shall have to say that Nancy – didn’t know.”
“Then you – weren’t lovers?” Pollyanna’s voice was tragic with dismay.
“Never!”
“I’d have been so glad to come – with Aunt Polly,” almost sobbed Pollyanna.
“And you won’t – now?” The man asked the question without turning his head.
“Of course not! I’m Aunt Polly’s.”
The man turned now, almost fiercely.
“Before you were hers, Pollyanna, you were – your mother’s. And – it was your mother’s hand and heart that I wanted long years ago.”
“My mother’s!”
“Yes. I loved your mother; but she – didn’t love me. And after a time she went away with – your father. The whole world suddenly turned black to me. For long years I have been a cross, unlovable, unloved old man – though I’m not nearly sixty, yet, Pollyanna. Then, one day, like one of the prisms that you love so well, little girl, you danced into my life, and changed the colours around me. I found out, after a time, who you were, and – and I thought then I never wanted to see you again. I didn’t want to be reminded of – your mother. But – you know how that came out. And now I want you always. Pollyanna, won’t you come NOW?”
“But, Mr. Pendleton, there’s Aunt Polly!” Pollyanna’s eyes were filled with tears.
The man made an impatient gesture.
“What about me? How do you suppose I’m going to be ‘glad’ about anything – without you? If I had you for my own little girl, I’d be glad for – anything; and I’d try to make you glad, too, my dear.
“But Aunt Polly, she’s glad, I know, to have – ”
“Glad!” interrupted the man. “I’m sure Miss Polly doesn’t know how to be glad – for anything! Oh, she only does her duty, I know. Everyone knows her – and she isn’t the ‘glad’ kind, Pollyanna. She doesn’t know how to be. As for your coming to me – you just ask her and see if she won’t let you come. And, oh, little girl, little girl, I want you so!” he finished brokenly.
Pollyanna rose to her feet with a long sigh.
“All right. I’ll ask her,” she said wistfully. “Well, I’m glad I didn’t tell her anything yesterday.”
John Pendleton smiled grimly.
“Well, yes, Pollyanna; I guess it is just as well you didn’t mention it – yesterday.”
“I told only to the doctor; and of course, he doesn’t count.”
“The doctor!” cried John Pendleton, turning quickly. “Dr. Chilton?”
“Yes; when he came to tell me you wanted to see me today, you know.”
“And what did Dr. Chilton say?” he asked.
Pollyanna frowned thoughtfully.
“I don’t remember. Not much, I reckon. Oh, he did say he could well imagine you did want to see me.”
The sky was darkening when Pollyanna hurried down the hill from John Pendleton’s house. Half-way home she met Nancy with an umbrella.
“Oh, Miss Pollyanna, Miss Polly wanted me to come with this. She was worried about you!”
“Was she?” murmured Pollyanna. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to scare her.”
“Well, I’m glad,” retorted Nancy, unexpectedly.
“Why, Nancy,” demurred Pollyanna, “Aunt Polly always does her duty.” Unconsciously Pollyanna repeated John Pendleton’s words.
“You’re right she is – and she always was! But she’s something more, now, since you came.”
Pollyanna’s face changed.
“Do you think Aunt Polly likes to have me here? Would she mind – if I wasn’t here any more?”
“Likes to have you here? I’m sure she needs you!
“Oh, Nancy, I’m so glad – glad – glad! You don’t know how glad I am that Aunt Polly – wants me!
The task of telling John Pendleton of her decision would not be an easy one, Pollyanna knew, and she dreaded it. She was very sorry for him.
In due time she found herself in the great dim library of John Pendleton’s house.
“Well, Pollyanna, will you play the ‘glad game’ with me, all the rest of my life?” asked the man, gently.
“Oh, yes,” cried Pollyanna. “I’ve thought of the very gladdest kind of a thing for you to do, and – ”
“With – YOU?” asked John Pendleton.
“N-no; but – ”
“Pollyanna, you aren’t going to say no!” he interrupted.
“I–I’ve got to, Mr. Pendleton; truly I have. Aunt Polly – ”
“Did she REFUSE to let you come?”
“I didn’t ask her,” stammered the little girl.
“Pollyanna! So you didn’t even ask her!”
“I couldn’t, sir – truly,” faltered Pollyanna. “You see, I found out – without asking. Aunt Polly WANTS me with her, and – and I want to stay, too,” she confessed. “Sometimes she’s beginning to be glad about things. Oh, Mr. Pendleton, I can’t leave Aunt Polly – now!”
There was a long pause.
“Pollyanna; I see. You can’t leave her – now,” he said.
“Oh, but you don’t know about the rest of it,” she reminded him. “There’s the very gladdest thing you CAN do. You said only a – a woman’s hand and heart or a child’s presence could make a home. And I can get it for you – a child’s presence; – not me, you know, but another one.”
“As if I would have any but you!” resented an indignant voice.
“But you’re so kind and good! Please take Jimmy Bean!
“Take – WHO?”
“Jimmy Bean. He’s the ‘child’s presence,’ you know; and he’ll be so glad to be it.”
“Will he? Well, I won’t,” ejaculated the man. “Pollyanna, this is sheer nonsense!”
“You don’t mean – you won’t take him?”
“I certainly do mean just that.”
“Maybe you think a nice live little boy wouldn’t be better than that old dead skeleton you keep somewhere; but I think it would!”
“SKELETON?”
“Yes. Nancy said you had one in your closet.”
Suddenly he laughed.
“Pollyanna, I suspect you are right. Please tell me a little more about this nice little boy.” And Pollyanna told him.
“I’m so glad, and I’m sure you’ll like him,” sighed Pollyanna. “I do so want Jimmy Bean to have a home – and folks that care, you know.”
At Mrs. Snow’s request, Pollyanna went one day to Dr. Chilton’s office to get some medicine.
“This IS your home, isn’t it?” she said, looking interestedly about her.
The doctor smiled a little sadly.
“Yes, it is,” he answered, “but it’s a pretty poor apology for a home, Pollyanna. They’re just rooms, that’s all – not a home.”
Pollyanna nodded her head. Her eyes glowed with sympathetic understanding.
“I know. It takes a woman’s hand and heart, or a child’s presence to make a home,” she said.
“Eh?”
“Mr. Pendleton told me,” nodded Pollyanna, again; “about the woman’s hand and heart, or the child’s presence, you know. Why don’t you get a woman’s hand and heart, Dr. Chilton? Or maybe you’d take Jimmy Bean – if Mr. Pendleton doesn’t want him.”
Dr. Chilton laughed a little.
“So Mr. Pendleton says it takes a woman’s hand and heart to make a home, does he?” he asked evasively.
“Yes. He says his is just a house, too. Why don’t you, Dr. Chilton?”
“Why don’t I – what?”
“Get a woman’s hand and heart. Oh – and I forgot! I suppose I ought to tell you. It wasn’t Aunt Polly that Mr. Pendleton loved long ago; and so we – we aren’t going there to live. You see, I told you it was – but I made a mistake. I hope YOU didn’t tell anyone,” she finished anxiously.
“No – I didn’t tell anyone, Pollyanna,” replied the doctor.
“Oh, that’s all right, then,” sighed Pollyanna in relief. “But why don’t you get a woman’s hand and heart, Dr. Chilton?”
There was a moment’s silence; then very gravely the doctor said:
“It isn’t easy, little girl.”
Pollyanna frowned. Then her eyes widened in surprise.
“Dr. Chilton, you don’t mean – you didn’t try to get somebody’s hand and heart once, like Mr. Pendleton, and – and couldn’t, did you?”
“There, there, Pollyanna, never mind about that now. Don’t let other people’s troubles worry your little head. Run back now to Mrs. Snow. Here is the medicine. Was there anything else?”
Pollyanna shook her head.
“No, Sir; thank you, Sir,” she murmured, as she turned toward the door. “Anyhow, I’m glad it wasn’t my mother’s hand and heart that you wanted and couldn’t get, Dr. Chilton. Goodbye!”
It was on the last day of October that the accident occurred. Pollyanna, hurrying home from school, crossed the road at an apparently safe distance in front of a swiftly approaching motor car.
Just what happened, no one could tell afterward. Nobody could tell why it happened or who was to blame that it did happen. Pollyanna, however, at five o’clock, was borne, limp and unconscious, into the little room that was so dear to her. There, by a white-faced Aunt Polly and a weeping Nancy she was undressed and put to bed, while from the village, Dr. Warren was hurrying as fast as another motor car could bring him.
“Just look at her aunt’s face,” Nancy was sobbing to Old Tom in the garden, after the doctor had arrived and was closeted in the room; “Her hands shake, and now she isn’t doing her DUTY, I’m sure of it!”
“Is she hurt – bad?” The old man’s voice shook.
“Nobody knows it,” sobbed Nancy.
“But where is she hurt?”
“I don’t know, I don’t know,” moaned Nancy. “There’s a little cut on her blessed head, but Miss Polly says she’s afraid she’s hurt internally.”
Even after the doctor was gone, however, there seemed to be little that Nancy could tell Mr. Tom. There appeared to be no bones broken, and the cut was of slight consequence; but the doctor looked very grave. Later they sent for a trained nurse.
It was sometime during the next forenoon that Pollyanna opened conscious eyes and realized where she was.
“Why, Aunt Polly, what’s the matter? Isn’t it daytime? Why don’t I get up?” she cried. “Why, Aunt Polly, I can’t get up,” she moaned, falling back on the pillow, after an ineffectual attempt to lift herself.
“No, dear, I wouldn’t try – just yet,” soothed her aunt quickly, but very quietly.
“But what is the matter? Why can’t I get up?”
“You were hurt, dear, by the automobile last night. But never mind that now. Auntie wants you to rest and go to sleep again.”
“Hurt? Oh, yes; I–I ran.” Pollyanna’s eyes were dazed. She lifted her hand to her forehead. “Why, it’s – done up, and it – hurts!”
“Yes, dear; but never mind. Just – just rest.”
“But, Aunt Polly, I feel so funny, and so bad! My legs feel so – so queer – only they don’t FEEL – at all!”
Miss Polly turned away. The nurse came forward quickly.
“Suppose you let me talk to you now,” she began cheerily. “I am Miss Hunt, and I’m here to help your aunt take care of you. And the very first thing I’m going to do is to ask you to swallow these little white pills for me.”
“But I don’t want to be taken care of – that is, not for long! I want to get up. You know I go to school. Can’t I go to school tomorrow?”
From the window where Aunt Polly stood now there came a half-stifled cry.
“Tomorrow?” smiled the nurse.
“Well, I can’t let you go to school so soon as that, Miss Pollyanna. But just swallow these little pills for me, please, and we’ll see what THEY’LL do.”
“All right,” agreed Pollyanna; “but I MUST go to school the day after tomorrow – there are examinations then, you know.”
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