Just a matter of jelly

           PollyannawasalittlelateforsupperonthenightoftheaccidenttoJohnPendleton; but,asithappened,sheescapedwithoutreproof. 

           Nancymetheratthedoor. 

           "Well,ifIain’tgladterbesettin’mytwoeyesonyou,"shesighedinobviousrelief. "It’shalf-pastsix!" 

           "Iknowit,"admittedPollyannaanxiously; "butI’mnottoblame—trulyI’mnot. AndIdon’tthinkevenAuntPollywillsayIam,either." 

           "Shewon’thavethechance,"retortedNancy,withhugesatisfaction. "She’sgone." 

           "Gone!"gaspedPollyanna. "Youdon’tmeanthatI’vedrivenheraway?" ThroughPollyanna’smindatthemomenttroopedremorsefulmemoriesofthemorningwithitsunwantedboy,cat,anddog,anditsunwelcome"glad"andforbidden"father"thatwouldspringtoherforgetfullittletongue. "Oh,IDIDN’Tdriveheraway?" 

           "Notmuchyoudid,"scoffedNancy. "HercousindiedsuddenlydowntoBoston,andshehadtergo. Shehadoneo’themyellertelegramlettersafteryouwentawaythisafternoon,andshewon’tbebackforthreedays. NowIguesswe’regladallright. We’llbekeepin’housetergether,jestyouandme,allthattime. Wewill,wewill!" 

           Pollyannalookedshocked. 

           "Glad! Oh,Nancy,whenit’safuneral?" 

           "Oh,but‘twa’n’tthefuneralIwasgladfor,MissPollyanna. Itwas—"Nancystoppedabruptly. Ashrewdtwinklecameintohereyes. "Why,MissPollyanna,asifitwa’n’tyerselfthatwasteachin’meterplaythegame,"shereproachedhergravely. Pollyannapuckeredherforeheadintoatroubledfrown.