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           "Youseemto—tobegladforagoodmanythings,mydear,"falteredAuntPolly,puttingherhandtoherthroatasifhercollarbound. 

           Pollyannalaughedsoftly. 

           "Iam. I’vebeenthinkingof‘em—lotsof‘em—allthetimeI’vebeenlookingupatthatrainbow. Iloverainbows. I’msogladMr.Pendletongavemethoseprisms! I’mgladofsomethingsIhaven’tsaidyet. Idon’tknowbutI’m‘mostgladIwashurt." 

           "Pollyanna!" 

           Pollyannalaughedsoftlyagain. Sheturnedluminouseyesonheraunt. "Well,yousee,sinceIhavebeenhurt,you’vecalledme‘dear’lotsoftimes—andyoudidn’tbefore. Ilovetobecalled‘dear’—byfolksthatbelongtoyou,Imean. SomeoftheLadies’Aidersdidcallmethat; andofcoursethatwasprettynice,butnotsoniceasiftheyhadbelongedtome,likeyoudo. Oh,AuntPolly,I’msogladyoubelongtome!" 

           AuntPollydidnotanswer. Herhandwasatherthroatagain. Hereyeswerefulloftears. Shehadturnedawayandwashurryingfromtheroomthroughthedoorbywhichthenursehadjustentered. 

           ItwasthatafternoonthatNancyranouttoOldTom,whowascleaningharnessesinthebarn. Hereyeswerewild. 

           "Mr.Tom,Mr.Tom,guesswhat’shappened,"shepanted. "Youcouldn’tguessinathousandyears—youcouldn’t,youcouldn’t!"