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           "Yes,Iknow. I’veheardaboutthatnow,"rejoinedNancy; "an’that’swhyyoucould‘a’knockedmedownwithafeatherwhenIseeHIMatthedoor—him,whatshehain’tspoketoforyears! ButIlethiminan’wentan’toldher." 

           "Whatdidshesay?"OldTomheldhisbreathsuspended. 

           "Nothin’—atfirst. ShewassostillIthoughtshehadn’theard; andIwasjestgoin’tersayitoverwhenshespeaksupquietlike:‘TellMr.PendletonIwillbedownatonce. ’An’Icomean’toldhim. ThenIcomeoutherean’toldyou,"finishedNancy,castinganotherbackwardglancetowardthehouse. 

           "Humph!"gruntedOldTom; andfelltoworkagain. 

           Intheceremonious"parlor"oftheHarringtonhomestead,Mr.JohnPendletondidnothavetowaitlongbeforeaswiftstepwarnedhimofMissPolly’scoming. Asheattemptedtorise,shemadeagestureofremonstrance. Shedidnotofferherhand,however,andherfacewascoldlyreserved. 

           "Icalledtoaskfor—Pollyanna,"hebeganatonce,alittlebrusquely. 

           "Thankyou. Sheisaboutthesame,"saidMissPolly. 

           "Andthatis—won’tyoutellmeHOWsheis?" Hisvoicewasnotquitesteadythistime. 

           Aquickspasmofpaincrossedthewoman’sface. 

           "Ican’t,IwishIcould!" 

           "Youmean—youdon’tknow?" 

           "Yes." 

           "But—thedoctor?"