POLLYANNA
"I thought you meant here, at first. You said it was here that you had wanted Aunt Polly's hand and heart all these years to make a home, and—"
An inarticulate cry came from the man's throat. He raised his hand and began to speak; but the next moment he dropped his hand nervelessly at his side.
"The doctor, sir," said the maid in the doorway.
Pollyanna rose at once.
John Pendleton turned to her feverishly.
"Pollyanna, for Heaven's sake, say nothing of what I asked you—yet," he begged, in a low voice.
Pollyanna dimpled into a sunny smile.
"Of course not! Just as if I didn't know you'd rather tell her yourself!" she called back merrily over her shoulder.
John Pendleton fell limply back in his chair.
"Why, what's up?" demanded the doctor, a minute later, his fingers on his patient's galloping pulse.
A whimsical smile trembled on John Pendleton's lips.
"Overdose of your—tonic, I guess," he laughed, as he noted the doctor's eyes following Pollyanna's little figure down the driveway.
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