A waiting Game

           OnthedayafterJohnPendleton’scallattheHarringtonhomestead,MissPollysetherselftothetaskofpreparingPollyannaforthevisitofthespecialist. 

           "Pollyanna,mydear,"shebegangently,"wehavedecidedthatwewantanotherdoctorbesidesDr.Warrentoseeyou. Anotheronemighttellussomethingnewtodo—tohelpyougetwellfaster,youknow." 

           AjoyouslightcametoPollyanna’sface. 

           "Dr.Chilton! Oh,AuntPolly,I’dsolovetohaveDr.Chilton! I’vewantedhimallthetime,butIwasafraidyoudidn’t,onaccountofhisseeingyouinthesunparlorthatday,youknow; soIdidn’tliketosayanything. ButI’msogladyoudowanthim!" 

           AuntPolly’sfacehadturnedwhite,thenred,thenbacktowhiteagain. Butwhensheanswered,sheshowedveryplainlythatshewastryingtospeaklightlyandcheerfully. 

           "Oh,no,dear! Itwasn’tDr.ChiltonatallthatImeant. Itisanewdoctor—averyfamousdoctorfromNewYork,who—whoknowsagreatdealabout—abouthurtslikeyours." 

           Pollyanna’sfacefell. 

           "Idon’tbelieveheknowshalfsomuchasDr.Chilton." 

           "Oh,yes,hedoes,I’msure,dear." 

           "ButitwasDr.ChiltonwhodoctoredMr.Pendleton’sbrokenleg,AuntPolly. If—ifyoudon’tmindVERYmuch,IWOULDLIKEtohaveDr.Chilton—trulyIwould!" 

           AdistressedcolorsuffusedMissPolly’sface. Foramomentshedidnotspeakatall; thenshesaidgently—thoughyetwithatouchofheroldsterndecisiveness: