"Why, how extraordinary!" murmured Mrs. Carew, still not entirely comprehending.
"You'd think so—if you could see the results of that game in the Sanatorium," nodded Della; "and Dr. Ames says he hears she's revolutionized the whole town where she came from, just the same way. He knows Dr. Chilton very well—the man that married Pollyanna's aunt. And, by the way, I believe that marriage was one of her ministrations. She patched up an old lovers' quarrel between them.
"You see, two years ago, or more, Pollyanna's father died, and the little girl was sent East to this aunt. In October she was hurt by an automobile, and was told she could never walk again. In April Dr. Chilton sent her to the Sanatorium, and she was there till last March—almost a year. She went home practically cured. You should have seen the child! There was just one cloud to mar her happiness: that she couldn't walk all the way there. As near as I can gather, the whole town turned out to meet her with brass bands and banners.
"But you can't tell about Pollyanna. One has to see her. And that's why I say I wish you could have a dose of Pollyanna. It would do you a world of good."
Mrs. Carew lifted her chin a little.
"Really, indeed, I must say I beg to differ with you," she returned coldly. "I don't care to be 'revolutionized,' and I have no lovers' quarrel to be patched up; and if there is anything that would be insufferable to me, it would be a little Miss Prim with a long face
