POLLYANNA
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-cochère 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. I just love to ride," beamed Pollyanna, as he reached out his hand to help her in.
"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
142
