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go alone, of course, and tell them.ā€

ā€œYou would?ā€

ā€œYes; and Iā€™d tell it better this time,ā€ hurried on Pollyanna, quick to see the signs of relenting in the boyā€™s face. ā€œAnd thereā€™d be some of ā€˜em, I know, that would be glad to give you a home.ā€

ā€œIā€™d workā€”donā€™t forget ter say that,ā€ cautioned the boy.

ā€œOf course not,ā€ promised Pollyanna, happily, sure now that her point was gained. ā€œThen Iā€™ll let you know to-morrow.ā€

ā€œWhere?ā€

ā€œBy the roadā€”where I found you to-day; near Mrs. Snowā€™s house.ā€

ā€œAll right. Iā€™ll be there.ā€ The boy paused before he went on slowly: ā€œMaybe Iā€™d better go back, then, for ter-night, ter the Home. You see I hainā€™t no other place ter stay; andā€”and I didnā€™t leave till this morninā€™. I slipped out. I didnā€™t tell ā€˜em I wasnā€™t cominā€™ back, else theyā€™d pretend I couldnā€™t comeā€”though Iā€™m thinkinā€™ they wonā€™t do no worryinā€™ when I donā€™t show up sometime. They ainā€™t like FOLKS, ye know. They donā€™t CARE!ā€

ā€œI know,ā€ nodded Pollyanna, with understanding eyes. ā€œBut Iā€™m sure, when I see you to-morrow, Iā€™ll have just a common home and folks that do care all ready for you. Good-by!ā€ she called brightly, as she turned back toward the house.

In the sitting-room window at that moment, Miss Polly, who had been watching the two children, followed with sombre eyes the boy until a bend of the road hid him from sight. Then she sighed, turned, and walked listlesly up-stairsā€”and Miss Polly did not usually move listlessly. In her ears still was the boyā€™s scornful ā€œyou was so good and kind.ā€ In her heart was a curious sense of desolationā€”as of something lost.

CHAPTER XII. BEFORE THE LADIESā€™ AID

Dinner, which came at noon in the Harrington homestead, was a silent meal on the day of the Ladiesā€™ Aid meeting. Pollyanna, it is true, tried to talk; but she did not make a success of it, chiefly because four times she was obliged to break off a ā€œgladā€ in the middle of it, much to her blushing discomfort. The fifth time it happened, Miss Polly moved her head wearily.

ā€œThere, there, child, say it, if you want to,ā€ she sighed. ā€œIā€™m sure Iā€™d rather you did than not if itā€™s going to make all this fuss.ā€

Pollyannaā€™s puckered little face cleared.

ā€œOh, thank you. Iā€™m afraid it would be pretty hardā€”not to say it. You see Iā€™ve played it so long.ā€

ā€œYouā€™veā€”what?ā€ demanded Aunt Polly.

ā€œPlayed itā€”the game, you know, that fatherā€”ā€ Pollyanna stopped with a painful blush at finding herself so soon again on forbidden ground.

Aunt Polly frowned and said nothing. The rest of the meal was a silent one.

Pollyanna was not sorry to hear Aunt Polly tell the ministerā€™s wife over the telephone, a little later, that she would not be at the Ladiesā€™ Aid meeting that afternoon, owing to a headache. When Aunt Polly went up-stairs to her room and closed the door, Pollyanna tried to be sorry for the headache; but she could not help feeling glad that her aunt was not to be present that afternoon when she laid the case of Jimmy Bean before the Ladiesā€™ Aid. She could not forget that Aunt Polly had called Jimmy Bean a little beggar; and she did not want Aunt Polly to call him thatā€”before the Ladiesā€™ Aid.

Pollyanna knew that the Ladiesā€™ Aid met at two oā€™clock in the chapel next the church, not quite half a mile from home. She planned her going, therefore, so that she should get there a little before three.

ā€œI want them all to be there,ā€ she said to herself; ā€œelse the very one that wasnā€™t there might be the one who would be wanting to give Jimmy Bean a home; and, of course, two oā€™clock always means three, reallyā€”to Ladiesā€™ Aiders.ā€

Quietly, but with confident courage, Pollyanna ascended the chapel steps, pushed open the door and entered the vestibule. A soft babel of feminine chatter and laughter came from the main room. Hesitating only a brief moment Pollyanna pushed open one of the inner doors.

The chatter dropped to a surprised hush. Pollyanna advanced a little timidly. Now that the time had come, she felt unwontedly shy. After all, these half-strange, half-familiar faces about her were not her own dear Ladiesā€™ Aid.

ā€œHow do you do, Ladiesā€™ Aiders?ā€ she faltered politely. ā€œIā€™m Pollyanna Whittier. Iā€”I reckon some of you know me, maybe; anyway, I do YOUā€”only I donā€™t know you all together this way.ā€

The silence could almost be felt now. Some of the ladies did know this rather extraordinary niece of their fellow-member, and nearly all had heard of her; but not one of them could think of anything to say, just then.

ā€œIā€”Iā€™ve come toā€”to lay the case before you,ā€ stammered Pollyanna, after a moment, unconsciously falling into her fatherā€™s familiar phraseology.

There was a slight rustle.

ā€œDidā€”did your aunt send you, my dear? asked Mrs. Ford, the ministerā€™s wife.

Pollyanna colored a little.

ā€œOh, no. I came all by myself. You see, Iā€™m used to Ladiesā€™ Aiders. It was Ladiesā€™ Aiders that brought me upā€”with father.ā€

Somebody tittered hysterically, and the ministerā€™s wife frowned.

ā€œYes, dear. What is it?ā€

ā€œWell, itā€”itā€™s Jimmy Bean,ā€ sighed Pollyanna. ā€œHe hasnā€™t any home except the Orphan one, and theyā€™re full, and donā€™t want him, anyhow, he thinks; so he wants another. He wants one of the common kind, that has a mother instead of a Matron in itā€”folks, you know, thatā€™ll care. Heā€™s ten years old going on eleven. I thought some of you might like himā€”to live with you, you know.ā€

ā€œWell, did you ever!ā€ murmured a voice, breaking the dazed pause that followed Pollyannaā€™s words.

With anxious eyes Pollyanna swept the circle of faces about her.

ā€œOh, I forgot to say; he will work,ā€ she supplemented eagerly.

Still there was silence; then, coldly, one or two women began to question her. After a time they all had the story and began to talk among themselves, animatedly, not quite pleasantly.

Pollyanna listened with growing anxiety. Some of what was said she could not understand. She did gather, after a time, however, that there was no woman there who had a home to give him, though every woman seemed to think that some of the others might take him, as there were several who had no little boys of their own already in their homes. But there was no one who agreed herself to take him. Then she heard the ministerā€™s wife suggest timidly that they, as a society, might perhaps assume his support and education instead of sending quite so much money this year to the little boys in far-away India.

A great many ladies talked then, and several of them talked all at once, and even more loudly and more unpleasantly than before. It seemed that their society was famous for its offering to Hindu missions, and several said they should die of mortification if it should be less this year. Some of what was said at this time Pollyanna again thought she could not have understood, too, for it sounded almost as if they did not care at all what the money DID, so long as the sum opposite the name of their society in a certain ā€œreportā€ ā€œheaded the listā€ā€”and of course that could not be what they meant at all! But it was all very confusing, and not quite pleasant, so that Pollyanna was glad, indeed, when at last she found herself outside in the hushed, sweet airā€”only she was very sorry, too: for she knew it was not going to be easy, or anything but sad, to tell Jimmy Bean to-morrow that the Ladiesā€™ Aid had decided that they would rather send all their money to bring up the little India boys than to save out enough to bring up one little boy in their own town, for which they would not get ā€œa bit of credit in the report,ā€ according to the tall lady who wore spectacles.

ā€œNot but that itā€™s good, of course, to send money to the heathen, and I shouldnā€™t want ā€˜em not to send SOME there,ā€ sighed Pollyanna to herself, as she trudged sorrowfully along. ā€œBut they acted as if little boys HERE werenā€™t any accountā€”only little boys ā€˜way off. I should THINK, though, theyā€™d rather see Jimmy Bean growā€”than just a report!

CHAPTER XIII. IN PENDLETON WOODS

Pollyanna had not turned her steps toward home, when she left the chapel. She had turned them, instead, toward Pendleton Hill. It had been a hard day, for all it had been a ā€œvacation oneā€ (as she termed the infrequent days when there was no sewing or cooking lesson), and Pollyanna was sure that nothing would do her quite so much good as a walk through the green quiet of Pendleton Woods. Up Pendleton Hill, therefore, she climbed steadily, in spite of the warm sun on her back.

ā€œI donā€™t have to get home till half-past five, anyway,ā€ she was telling herself; ā€œand itā€™ll be so much nicer to go around by the way of the woods, even if I do have to climb to get there.ā€

It was very beautiful in the Pendleton Woods, as Pollyanna knew by experience. But to-day it seemed even more delightful than ever, notwithstanding her disappointment over what she must tell Jimmy Bean to-morrow.

ā€œI wish they were up hereā€”all those ladies who talked so loud,ā€ sighed Pollyanna to herself, raising her eyes to the patches of vivid blue between the sunlit green of the tree-tops. ā€œAnyhow, if they were up here, I just reckon theyā€™d change and take Jimmy Bean for their little boy, all right,ā€ she finished, secure in her conviction, but unable to give a reason for it, even to herself.

Suddenly Pollyanna lifted her head and listened. A dog had barked some distance ahead. A moment later he came dashing toward her, still barking.

ā€œHullo, doggieā€”hullo!ā€ Pollyanna snapped her fingers at the dog and looked expectantly down the path. She had seen the dog once before, she was sure. He had been then with the Man, Mr. John Pendleton. She was looking now, hoping to see him. For some minutes she watched eagerly, but he did not appear. Then she turned her attention toward the dog.

The dog, as even Pollyanna could see, was acting strangely. He was still barkingā€”giving little short, sharp yelps, as if of alarm. He was running back and forth, too, in the path ahead. Soon they reached a side path, and down this the little dog fairly flew, only to come back at once, whining and barking.

ā€œHo! That isnā€™t the way home,ā€ laughed Pollyanna, still keeping to the main path.

The little dog seemed frantic now. Back and forth, back and forth, between Pollyanna and the side path he vibrated, barking and whining pitifully. Every quiver of his little brown body, and every glance from his beseeching brown eyes were eloquent with appealā€”so eloquent that at last Pollyanna understood, turned, and followed him.

Straight ahead, now, the little dog dashed madly; and it was not long before Pollyanna came upon the reason for it all: a man lying motionless at the foot of a steep, overhanging mass of rock a few yards from the side path.

A twig cracked sharply under Pollyannaā€™s foot, and the man turned his head. With a cry of dismay Pollyanna ran to his side.

ā€œMr. Pendleton! Oh, are you hurt?ā€

ā€œHurt? Oh, no! Iā€™m just taking a siesta in the sunshine,ā€ snapped the man irritably. ā€œSee here, how much do you know? What can you do? Have you got any sense?ā€

Pollyanna caught her breath with a little gasp, butā€”as was her habitā€”she answered the questions literally, one by one.

ā€œWhy, Mr. Pendleton, Iā€”I donā€™t know so very much, and I

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