POLLYANNA
and cheery ways reminded me of—my own little girl that I lost years ago. I was so shocked to hear of the accident; and then when I learned that the poor child would never walk again, and that she was so unhappy because she couldn't be glad any longer—the dear child!—I just had to come to you."
"You are very kind," murmured Miss Polly looking down at her hands.
"But it is you who are to be kind," demurred the other. "I—I want you to give her a message from me. Will you?"
"Certainly."
"Will you just tell her, then, that Mrs. Tarbell is glad now. Yes, I know it sounds odd, and you don't understand. But—if you'll pardon me I'd rather not explain." Sad lines came to the lady's mouth, and the smile left her eyes. "Your niece will know just what I mean; and I felt that I must tell—her. Thank you; and pardon me, please, for any seeming rudeness in my call," she begged as she took her leave.
Thoroughly mystified now, Miss Polly hurried up-stairs to Pollyanna's room.
"Pollyanna, do you know a Mrs. Tarbell?"
"Oh, yes. I love Mrs. Tarbell. She's sick, and awfully sad; and she's at the hotel, and takes long walks. We go together. I mean—we used to."
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