The man's eyes were moodily fixed out the window.
"O dear! And it was all going so splendidly," almost sobbed Pollyanna.
"I'd have been so glad to come--with Aunt Polly." "And you won't--now ?" The man asked the question without turning his head.
"Of course not! I'm Aunt Polly's." The man turned now, almost fiercely.
"Before you were hers, Pollyanna, you were--your mother's.

And--it was your mother's hand and heart that I wanted long years ago." "My mother's!" "Yes.

I had not meant to tell you, but perhaps it's better, after all, that I do--now." John Pendleton's face had grown very white.

He was speaking with evident difficulty.

Pollyanna, her eyes wide and frightened, and her lips parted, was gazing at him fixedly.